


My Mirror Speaks

by Kuailong



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Heavy Angst, Homophobic Slurs, Jerks getting what's coming, Moments of Happy, but only in one chapter, sad things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 23:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 28,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2207742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuailong/pseuds/Kuailong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes ten minutes for their lives to take such a drastic turn. Ten minutes for it all to go to pieces. They're left with the task of picking up the pieces, but they have each other. Together, maybe, they can do this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_She stands there, letting the wind whip by, letting the sounds of the city wrap around her. She stands on the middle of the roof, of the building long since cleared of corpses and debris. Looking down, she swears she can almost smell the gunpowder, the blood. She swears she can see the blood stains, though the rain has long since washed them away. This rooftop, she curses it, she hates it. But she can’t leave. This rooftop was where her world ended. Or where it began. She’s no longer sure. She scuffs a sneaker against the concrete, looking up to stare at the view. It’s a nice rooftop, and she hates it. The view is pleasant, the building is the ideal height to view the world below. She wants to scream, to cry out. She wants to let the world know what this rooftop took away from her. She wants the world to know what she’s lost, where the road of her life diverged so drastically. Her world isn’t over, but it’s different. And as she stares, stoically, at the flurry of life below, the urge to scream rises within her. She cannot stand it, staring down at the people below. They don’t understand what goes on behind their cushy lives, they have no clue who and what her people lose to keep their lives simple. Free. She wants to cry out even more now, she wants to ask them if they know what has been lost. But she also knows that the person waiting for her inside, the reason why she’s on this rooftop, wouldn’t want that. And she has already vowed to give that person the world. She keeps her vows. She keeps her word._

_She stands there for a moment longer, staring at roof around her. If she looks hard enough, she feels like she can see the scene. It feels like it just happened, but at the same time, it feels like it happened years ago. Her mind can’t make up its mind. She swears up and down she can pinpoint the place her lover fell. She can pinpoint the place where she laid out the man that shot that person. Her person. Hers. She put six or seven bullets in that man, and she doesn’t regret it. She doesn’t even blink when she recalls his death, because he hurt what is hers. The damage he did cannot be repaired in a few weeks. Not even months. If they come out the other side, it will take years. And yet she cannot be sad, not truly. Because that person is still alive, that person waits for her inside. That person means everything to her, and she no longer takes for granted the life they share together. Each dawn, each day, is brighter. Sharper than ever before. She turns away from the empty rooftop, no longer having the heart to hate it. The road before them is long, but she’s determined. As is the person waiting inside for her. They’ll get through this, together. She knows they will._

_That moment she takes to look at the rooftop once more ends. She knows she’ll never come back here, for many reasons. She knows the baggage of this place no longer belongs in her life, she no longer has a need for it. She turns away sharply, not because she’s upset. She’s eerily calm, calmer than she expected she would be. She only came to reconcile the past with herself, and she has done that. She walks quickly to the door, to the access she has now used twice to reach the roof. She steps inside the door, closing it behind her. Technically, the building is no longer a crime scene. Now, it’s just empty. Empty save for two people. She lets her eyes adjust to the interior, standing against the door. As her eyes adjust, she walks toward her lover._

_“Do you …” Her lover trails off and she tries not to frown. Tries not to let her concern show. That person has trouble with words these days, and she has learned not to interject or correct her. It only upsets her. So she stays quiet, and waits for the right words to come. “… regret it?” Her lover finishes and looks up at her. She shakes her head and offers her lover a small smile, crouching down to the level of the wheelchair._

_“I regret a lot of things, but no. I do not regret killing him.” She says, reaching out to hold her lover’s right hand. It’s always the right hand that she holds now, because her lover cannot feel her left. It bothers her lover, she knows that, so she makes a conscious effort to focus on the right side. They share a quiet moment before her lover speaks again._

_“Are we finished here?” That person asks quietly and she nods in response, standing. She turns and situates herself so that she can push the wheelchair._

_“Yes, we are.” She says, finding the answer holding more than one meaning. She will never come back here, and for that, she’s glad. She turns the chair towards the elevator and begins walking. She has gotten the closure she wants, she’s finished with the place. She has their lives ahead of them, and she has already decided she will no longer look back._


	2. Chapter 2

There’s a light knock on the door-jam to her office, but she recognizes the knock. She doesn’t bother to look up, because the person who had knocked is already crossing the room to her desk. Small, delicate hands reach across her desk and close her laptop, and Maria snaps her head up to face her girlfriend.

“I was working on that.” She says, letting a hint of sourness seep into her tone. She knows the laptop will save her work, but she is not fond of being interrupted.

“It’s five o’clock. And Wednesday. Let’s go home.” Natasha says, pulling herself up to sit on the edge of Maria’s desk. Maria scowls, she was in the middle of that report, and she wanted to finish it before she left for the evening.

“You promised. Wednesdays are ours, baring missions or another apocalypse.” Natasha reminds her gently, reaching out to snag one of Maria’s hands in her own. The redhead is right, they made that promise together. Wednesdays were always set aside for dates or just time for them. She lets her scowl slowly morph into a smile. She can bring the laptop home with her, or finish the next day. Natasha senses the change and smiles widely, and Maria continues to smile back. She’s lucky, she knows that. The Black Widow doesn’t let many people get close to her, and Maria is the closest. She gets to see those rare, genuine smiles. They never fail to send her gut into a warm flurry. She reaches up and snags the front of Natasha’s jacket, pulling the spy down to her level. Natasha lets her, and that’s another sign of trust from her. Maria leans forward a little and presses their lips together, intending for a short, chaste kiss, as they are both still in the office. It is neither short nor chaste and Natasha deepens the kiss and it quickly turns into an intimate moment where hands start moving and tongues don’t lay idle. She feels Natasha’s hand snake up her shirt, and she’s so lost in the moment that it doesn’t bother her that they are doing this in her SHIELD office. They’ve done other, more intimate things in that office. They keep kissing until Maria has to pull away, to catch her breath and re-orient herself. Natasha gives a little hum and leans back, a smug look on her face. She doesn’t remove her hand from where it rests against Maria’s chest, and frankly, the brunette doesn’t mind.

“Alright, home. Which car did we take this morning?” The beautiful thing about both of them being SHIELD is that they often carpool from their flat in Avenger’s Tower. Maria drives a twenty-twelve Volvo s60. She doesn’t get attached to cars, and her four-door before that met and untimely end with a bomb. Natasha, hilariously, gets attached to cars and still drives a two-thousand one Camaro SS. It was the first car she purchased for herself in the States, and Maria has lost count how often the internal parts have been repaired or replaced. Still, the car is in wonderful shape, and Natasha is fond of it. They both prefer standard transmissions, but Maria’s car is an automatic. She’s probably going to trade it in soon, she thinks. Natasha grins at Maria and holds up her keys.

“The Camaro, so I’m driving. Pack up so we can leave. I bought the rest of the groceries for tonight’s dinner already, so we can head straight home.” Natasha says, flipping her keys in the air and catching them. Maria chuckles and pulls out her laptop bag from under the desk. She busies herself with packing up her files and laptop while she watches Natasha out of the corner of her eyes.

“So, dinner. Is that still a surprise or do I get to know what you’re cooking?” Maria asks casually, placing her laptop in the bag carefully. This time it’s Natasha’s turn to chuckle. If they don’t go out to dinner for their Wednesdays, Natasha insists on cooking some sort of extravagant dinner. Maria, obviously, doesn’t mind. Natasha is a frighteningly good cook, and while they usually split the cooking duties, Maria loves when Natasha cooks. Natasha’s chuckle ends and she leans forward, a look of smug satisfaction on her face. Maria loves when she looks smug, it’s a good look on the woman.

“I’ll give you a hint. I snuck it in the crockpot before we left this morning. And then I stopped home earlier to throw the rest in.” Natasha says, letting her tone grow smug. It’s enough of a clue to know that Maria will enjoy dinner, but there hasn’t been a time where she hasn’t. Maria grins herself, standing. She dislodges Natasha’s hand from her chest, but quickly picks the hand up in her own. They don’t hide their relationship, there’s no reason for them to. The no fraternization policy in SHIELD rarely applies, because of the dangerous nature of their jobs. And Maria was always an exception. With Coulson now, and Fury before him. Natasha was also an exception in of herself, when she was with Barton. Natasha curls her fingers around Maria’s hand and it brings a smile to her face. It still baffles Maria how small Natasha really is, how petite and tiny her frame is. She often takes up an entire room with her presence, but Maria really feels the height difference when she stands next to her lover. Natasha slides off the desk, and together they exit the office. Maria flicks the light switch as they walk by and head together towards the parking garage. 

“Anything interesting happen at the office today?” Maria asks casually, but it’s her way of asking if she’s going to have extra paperwork tomorrow. Because she knows Natasha and Barton when they are idle, and there’s usually plenty of paperwork involved.

“Barton shot O’Riley in the ass.” Natasha says with a grin. Maria has to laugh, Agent O’Riley is an asshole, and far too homophobic for Maria’s tastes. The fact that both Barton and Natasha lean towards their own sexes doesn’t sit right with the field agent, and Maria can’t fault either of STRIKE Team Delta in harassing the man. “It was a nerf dart, though. O’Riley still flipped, tried to call Barton out on checking out his ass. He forgets that Barton’s only following one ass.” Natasha adds, her tone clearly full of amusement. The redhead is right, though. A well-kept SHIELD secret is that Barton and Coulson are an item, have been for years. Maria really wishes they could fire O’Riley, the man makes her skin crawl. But he’s an excellent agent, even if she’s positive they’re going to find his corpse stuffed in an air duct one day. Really, the man must have a death wish to continuously taunt both Natasha and Barton. They finally reach Natasha’s car and the redhead pulls away to unlock both doors.


	3. Chapter 3

The ride home is a quiet affair, and that’s quite fine with Maria. She finds one of the best parts of their relationship is that they can have those comfortable silences, where they just enjoy each other’s company. Besides, their ride home is typically short, even including rush hour traffic in the city. She leans back in the the seat and watches the city pass by out the window. Natasha’s a decent city driver, but she tends to speed when on highways and open roads. But that’s alright, because Maria tends to turn corners on a dime. Neither of them are the safest drivers, but they’re also not reckless. Unless you give Natasha free reign in a muscle car, Maria’s only done that once with her, and frankly, the brunette is amazed she came out alive. She now refuses to go with Natasha when Tony lets her take off with one of his cars. Maria knows Natasha, knows that Natasha won’t intentionally hurt herself doing such things, but she still worries until Natasha returns, usually with a wide grin on her face.

Maria turns to look at her girlfriend, her lover. A smile creeps across her face and she reaches out to lay her hand atop Natasha’s, covering the stick shift with their hands. Not for the first time she finds herself grateful for the spy’s role in her life, grateful that she’s found someone she could not only settle down with but share her life with. Natasha turns briefly to face her and the redhead hums a happy sound. She knows Natasha is as content as she is with their shared life, despite the dangerous nature of both of their jobs.

“Let’s stop by that Italian bakery, Maria.” Natasha says suddenly, breaking the moment as she turns back to face the road in front of her. They’re about halfway home, and the bakery is only a few blocks from their current location.

“Cannoli and tiramisu?” Maria asks. It’s their usual order, four cannoli and two slices of tiramisu. Maria usually saves the tiramisu for lunch at work the next day, but Natasha has a sweet tooth like Maria never expected. Especially when it comes to Italian sweets. Natasha shakes her head.

“Let’s get Cassata.” She says with a grin, turning off onto the street they need to reach the bakery. Maria blinks, they don’t usually get Cassata unless they’re having company or really intend to treat themselves. Still, she’s not opposed to the idea, it is quite delicious.

“Sounds like a good plan.” Maria finds herself saying, because frankly, while she does love cannoli, Cassata is her favorite. She smiles at Natasha, knowing that tonight is going to be an excellent Wednesday. Natasha pulls up along the curb next to the bakery and unclasps her seatbelt.

“I’ll go get it.” The redhead says, and before Maria can protest, the smaller woman is already out of the car and closing the door behind her. Maria shakes her head, smiling again. Natasha is up to something, she can tell that much. While Natasha may be the perfect spy, Maria has gotten to the point where she can see through most of her girlfriend’s facades. And Natasha has been leaving small hints, Maria has been catching them. The fact that dinner is a secret, while not completely unusual, isn’t usually a big thing with their Wednesdays. And the mention of Cassata, really, was another hint. Still, there are not enough hints for her to extrapolate, but as she watches Natasha exit the bakery with a box in hand, the size of the box seals her conclusion. Something is definitely up, because Maria can tell from the box that it does not contain two individual Cassata but rather a large single one. Maria purses her lips and wonders exactly what her girlfriend is up to. Natasha slides the box into the backseat and then climbs into the front.

“I know you’re up to something.” Maria says, cocking her head to the side. Natasha turns and offers the most endearing and innocent face she can muster. That particular face lost its effect on Maria long before they started dating.

“Perhaps I am, you’ll just have to see.” Natasha says cryptically, turning the key in the ignition and pulling the car out of neutral. Maria looks down at Natasha’s hand as she shifts gears and chews on her bottom lip. She’s not terribly concerned with what Natasha’s secret might be, if it was bad, Natasha would not have gone through the trouble she already has. Still, Maria doesn’t have the slightest clue and it bothers her a little. She looks up and turns to watch the city pass by as they drive. All too soon for her to really come to any conclusions, they’re pulling in the parking deck for Avenger’s Tower. Maria changes her musings to pull her mind off the subject. She still wonders how she can stand living in the same building as Tony Stark, let alone the entire Avengers team. But Natasha moved with her team, and Maria followed. Not that Stark was terribly thrilled at first, but they eventually grew on one another. She waits for Natasha to finish parking the Camaro before she opens the door and steps out. Before Maria can reach the other side of the car to attempt to grab the cake first, Natasha is already there, box in hand, a smug grin on her face.

“You’re just going to have to wait and see, _Птичка_.” Natasha taunts, and Maria really can’t be mad at Natasha for it. Besides, every time her lover uses that pet name, it causes warm flutters in her stomach. Maria can speak Russian well enough, she was passable before Natasha, but now she’s fluent. She understands that the pet name means little bird, and Natasha has even explained that to her. It’s a sort of homage to Maria’s code name, Natasha had explained. The redhead only uses it when they are alone, not that Maria would mind if she used it around others. But she supposes Natasha wishes to keep it private, to keep it to themselves. She cannot fault her girlfriend for that. Natasha wipes the smug look from her face and smiles widely, before turning and starting the walk towards the elevator. Maria follows, quite content to walk behind Natasha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going to attempt a chapter a day, but we'll see how long this lasts. At the least, there will be two chapters a week.


	4. Chapter 4

It turns out dinner was one of Maria’s favorites, which only causes her suspicion to grow. Pot roast, vegetables and mashed potatoes made from scratch. Natasha’s cooking is always fantastic, and Maria can’t help but enjoy herself when her girlfriend cooks. She leans back in her chair, surveying the table in front of her. Natasha is looking quite smug with herself as she stands up and pushes her chair back.

“Tony recommended a new butcher, I think he’s on to something.” Natasha said, conversationally, as she picks up her plate from the table and approaches Maria. Maria makes the motion to stand but Natasha shakes her head.

“Let me.” The redhead says, picking up Maria’s plate as well. Maria frowns, she was hoping to find out the big reveal, but evidently dinner was not it. She sighs to herself, leaning back a little.

“Just give me a moment, stay there.” Natasha calls from the kitchen, her voice raised despite this part of their flat having an open floor plan. She can see Natasha passed the island separating the kitchen from the dining room, and so she watches her lover. Natasha simply places the dishes in the sink, pulls two smaller plates out of the cupboard, and picks up the Cassata. Within moments she’s back at the table, setting the plates in their proper places and gently resting the box on the table.

“So the dinner really wasn’t the secret, and I already know what’s in the box, what is this big secret you’ve been hiding from me?” Maria says, eying the Cassata box. Natasha just grins like a little shit and lifts the top off of the box to reveal an ornately designed cake. Maria just stares at it.

“You special ordered that.” She accuses, because there is no way something that decorated was left sitting in the display case at the bakery. Natasha grins wider.

“You’re getting impatient. It’s adorable.” Natasha says, picking up a knife to cut into the cake. Maria scowls and decides that’s it, she’s done waiting and wondering.

“Fess up, ‘Tasha. What’s going on?” She asks, reaching over to grab Natasha’s hand gently before the redhead cuts the cake. Natasha looks at her with surprise and then shrugs.

“I was going to do it _after_ Cassata, but clearly you’re too impatient. Fine, wait here.” Natasha says, pulling her hand out of Maria’s grasp and setting the knife down. Maria’s scowl morphs into a frown as Natasha takes off toward their bedroom. Now Maria is extremely confused, and a little worried. Natasha returns moments later with one hand behind her back and Maria arches an eyebrow at her. Natasha doesn’t stop at the table but instead walks right up to Maria and pauses, a small frown on her face. Maria blinks, Natasha doesn’t usually hesitate, but she is now, and a small fragment of doubt settles in her gut. But Natasha’s hesitation doesn’t last long, and she drops down to one knee and Maria’s jaw drops open. It’s cliche, but Natasha pulls a small ring box from behind her back. There is no way this is actually happening, she decides. She just stares at Natasha and they sit there like that for a few moments before Natasha speaks.

“I know we’ve talked about it for a while now, but I think it’s time. If you do. I know before I was unsure, unwilling to commit, for the obvious reasons. But really, there’s no one else I’d rather share my life with. And no one else I’d be willing to make this commitment with. So, if you’ll have me, will you marry me, Maria Hill?” As Natasha speaks, Maria’s eyebrow arches further and she gapes at Natasha. The redhead finally reaches over and opens the ring box. The ring is, well, gorgeous. But the ring isn’t what she focuses on right then. She’s sitting there in pure disbelief that this is even happening. She’s stunned, because they have talked about it, but Natasha always brought up issues that would arise. They’ve been dating a little over five years, so it’s not that it’s too soon. Natasha’s expression morphs into concern and Maria realizes she’s left the redhead hanging. There’s only one way, Maria knows, to answer Natasha.

“Yes. Absolutely.” She says with earnest, sliding off the chair to grab Natasha by her collar and pull her in close for a kiss. God, the kiss is in every way perfect. It reminds Maria of their first kiss, but aged, like fine wine. But it is them, and it quickly turns needy and aggressive. All too soon they’re laying on the floor, hands in inappropriate places, having to pull apart just to breathe.

“You didn’t have to go through all of this, ‘Tash.” Maria finds herself saying after a few moments, as she picks herself up off the floor. She extends her hand down to help Natasha off of the floor.

“I wanted to make it special, as corny as that sounds.” Natasha says with a grin, accepting Maria’s hand. They stand there a moment, and Maria swears Natasha looks different, but it’s likely just her perception. Because in less than a half hour they’ve gone from being girlfriends to fiances and Maria couldn’t be happier at the change. Silently, Natasha holds up the open ring box for Maria to look at. The ring is simple, but that’s easily part of its beauty. Set in the middle is a reasonably sized black star sapphire, the white gold of the ring body coiling around it in a staged fashion. Maria finds she loves it, loves it for more than its looks. She loves what it represents, and she watches as Natasha plucks the ring out of the box and snags Maria’s hand to slip the ring on her finger. Maria smiles widely at her new fiance, leaning down to kiss her again. They pull away quickly from this kiss, but Natasha snags Maria’s hand again and pulls her towards the bedroom. The cake is still out, the dishes are left undone, and Maria finds she doesn’t even care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess if anyone is interested, I have a playlist I use for writing BlackHill, and I'd be quite willing to share it. The song I really like to use for this ship is Counting Stars by OneRepbulic.


	5. Chapter 5

Maria’s alarm screeches out its annoying tone and the brunette groans, reaching over Natasha’s frame to hit the button. Normally, Maria is up before her alarm has a chance to sound, but they didn’t do a lot of sleeping the night prior. Hell, they didn’t even get to eat the Cassata, though Natasha did sneak off to put it away. Maria doesn’t mind, she’ll take a generous slice in to the office for lunch. Or a snack. She glances down at her fiance and smiles. Natasha’s awake, she can tell, but the redhead is refusing to move from her spot curled against Maria. Natasha usually ends up being the little spoon, which Maria still finds endearing.

“I know you’re awake, Nat.” Maria hums, using her free hand to push the hair out of Natasha’s face. Natasha scrunches up her nose and huffs out a sigh. She still doesn’t open her eyes.

“Can’t we call in sick?” Natasha mumbles, burying her face in Maria’s chest. Maria chuckles, wrapping her arms around her redhead. Maria had already briefly considered the idea, but she knows that sooner rather than later someone would track them down.

“You know that wouldn’t work. Come on, we need to shower.” Maria says, pulling back a little to tweak Natasha’s nose. Natasha scrunches her face up more, and Maria grins at the sheer adorable factor. Natasha groans, a sound not unlike the one Maria uttered at the alarm clock. She carefully extracts her arm from beneath Natasha, rolling over to sit up on the edge of the bed.

“Fine.” Natasha grumbles, sitting up herself. “Shower together?” She asks hopefully, stretching her arms into the air before hauling herself off of the bed. Maria watches her out of the corner of her eye. Natasha’s body is beautiful, and Maria includes every scar in that statement. A few of the scars Maria knows the origin of, others, she does not. They both have their scars, Maria has a fair share of her own, but Natasha has taught her to embrace them. Once her feet are on the floor, Natasha stretches again, fully nude and likely well aware that Maria is watching her. Her suspicions are confirmed when Natasha saunters over to her and reaches around to grab her behind. As much as she was expecting the motion, Maria can’t help but jump a little.

“If you promise that we actually shower.” Maria says, following her lover into the bathroom. The shower is easily large enough for both of them, but their shared showers tend to devolve into other activities. Natasha only chuckles, and wiggles her butt a little as she disappears into the shower. Maria sighs, shaking her head as she grabs two towels from the closet to lay over the bar for them. Natasha has already started the water, and Maria decides it won’t be so bad if they run a little late today. She climbs into the shower after Natasha.

For once, their shared shower doesn’t actually turn into anything more than a shower together. Minus a small amount of touching that naturally comes from a couple showering. In no time at all they’re drying themselves off and heading into the bedroom to change. Maria detours to the bedside table to pick up her ring. She holds it in the light to admire it once more, marveling at the simple beauty it holds. She has little doubt that Natasha looked very carefully for the perfect ring, and she absently wonders who she asked to help her choose it. Definitely not Barton, she assumes.

“You need a ring too, Nat. And who helped with this one?” She says, and she knows she’s not insulting Natasha with the question. The redhead freely admits her failings with domesticity, and carries no shame in asking for help to equalize the footing. Natasha turns to face Maria, clasping a bra behind her back.

“What would I do with an engagement ring, Maria? When the time comes, I’ll keep the wedding ring on a chain around my neck. But I have no need for an engagement ring, you’re the one with the cushy desk job. And Pepper helped. She helped a lot, actually. Also she insisted she help with the wedding.” Natasha says, chuckling at the last sentence as she turns to grab a shirt from her closet. Maria is glad Stark re-designed this place when he found out Maria came with Natasha. Both of them have their own walk-in closets, and while Maria thought it was slightly obscene at first, she actually enjoys the versatility it offers them. It doesn’t bother Maria that Pepper wants to help, she knows the woman well, and always welcomes Pepper’s assistance.

“If you’re sure.” Maria says, finally slipping the ring on her finger and heading towards her own closet. She has no doubt people will notice the ring, but the majority of the people who do will figure it out fast enough. Those who don’t likely won’t have to gall to ask her about it. She snags underwear and her uniform from her closet, turning to watch Natasha. While Natasha has a uniform, she only wears it for operations, her usual SHIELD attire tends to be SHIELD t-shirts and jeans. Fury tried to argue with her once, attempting to get her into at least dress clothes. He lost that argument, and gave up enforcing it when it came to either Natasha or Barton. Maria dresses, letting her eyes linger on Natasha for a while longer. Once fully clothes, Natasha strolls up to Maria and pulls her down to the redhead’s level for a kiss. Maria forces herself to not let them get too distracted, and they pull away shortly after.

While neither of them tend to be breakfast people, they know the importance of eating in the morning. So breakfast tends to be coffee or tea and toast or English muffins. Because it is Avengers’ Tower, the coffee and tea makers have their own AIs, and as they enter the kitchen, both are ready. Maria prefers her coffee black and strong, while Natasha tends to drink either a black or mate tea in the morning. This morning the kitchen smells like roses, and she turns to raise an eyebrow at Natasha.

“White rose. I thought I’d switch it up.” Natasha says with a shrug, pulling her large cup from beneath the maker. If Natasha sweetens her teas, it’s typically with honey, but this morning Natasha just drinks it straight. Maria grabs her cup of coffee and pops two English muffins in the toaster. They eat without much fuss, and as they head out, Maria snags her laptop bag.


	6. Chapter 6

Their ride into work is quiet and relaxing, for the most part. They elected to take Maria’s car, and as such, Maria drives. Natasha prefers to avoid driving the automatic, and Maria doesn’t press the issue. But Maria still hates the city traffic, especially during morning rush hour. It’s not too bad this time, but Maria still has to pry her fingers from the steering wheel when she pulls into her designated space in the parking deck. Before she gets out of the car, Natasha reaches over and drops two Tupperware containers in the brunette’s lap. Maria blinks before she realizes what they are. Leftovers and Cassata from dinner, she won’t have to eat the mess hall food. It had completely slipped her mind, she realizes, to think about lunch. She turns to her fiance and Natasha grins, holding up her own two containers. She smiles at the redhead, and places both containers in her bag. They both exit the car at the same time, and Maria locks it before shouldering her bag.

“Going to harass Barton?” Maria asks as Natasha wraps her hand around the brunette’s. Natasha chuckles and flashes her lover a smile.

“Yeah, I don’t have a lot of paperwork to do. Unless something comes up, I think he and I are just going to dick around.” Natasha says, starting to swing their connected hands. Maria chuckles softly as they exit the parking garage and enter SHIELD HQ proper. The front receptionist raises a hand and waves at them as they walk by.

“Stewarts’ owes me fifty, thanks!” Tricia calls after them, and Natasha stops for a moment and starts laughing when they reach the hallway. It takes Maria a moment to realize what the words meant and she starts laughing with Natasha. Even the receptionist is an agent, so Maria is not surprised that she noticed the ring. Of course SHIELD would have a betting pool on their engagement, it really shouldn’t surprise her. 

“I wonder just how much she’s going to collect.” Natasha says after she’s finished laughing. Maria shakes her head and chuckles. 

“I’d expect quite a bit.” Maria says, turning to look back at the lobby. She absently wonders how the betting was set up, and who organized it. 

“I suspect Clint had a hand in it.” Natasha says after a moment, starting to walk down the highway. Maria decides that, yes, Barton probably did have a hand in it. But she’s not upset, she’s actually quite amused. These things happen at SHIELD, and Maria doesn’t have the heart to stop them. Harmless respites from the nature of their jobs, Maria cannot fault them for it. Maria starts walking herself, catching up to her lover. They come to the first corridor, and Natasha turns and attempts to give Maria a quick kiss. Maria lets her hand snake around Natasha and deepens the kiss, turning the quick moment into a slightly longer one. Natasha pulls away first and smirks at Maria before turning and walking down the hallway. 

Maria heads for the lounge to put her lunch in the fridge. She’s still marveling at the night before, and the ring on her finger. A few people she passes notice the ring, but don’t say anything, she lets them be. It’s not long before she’s at the lounge and she places her lunch in the fridge, stacking the containers in the back corner. She straightens and closes the refrigerator door before turning to head out of the lounge. Maria feels like the day is going to drag on, because she’d rather be spending it with Natasha. For once she’d rather be home than at SHIELD, but she knows her responsibilities and obligations, so she heads for her office. She’ll finish the paperwork from yesterday, and she never doubts there will be more work for her when she finishes her current load. As she enters her office, she flicks the light on and sits down. She takes another moment to admire her ring, the weight of it on her finger has constantly registered in the back of her mind since she put it on. She supposes she’ll get used to it, but she doesn’t mind the weight. It means wonderful things. She’s pulling her laptop out of the bag when there’s a knock against the door-jam. She glances up to find Coulson standing at her door. 

“We have a situation. Conference room B.” He says before turning sharply and heading in the direction of said conference room. Maria’s interest is definitely piked, Coulson isn’t usually so abrupt. She doesn’t even bother pulling her laptop out, she leaves it in the bag and stands. She starts heading for conference room B, walking quickly.


	7. Chapter 7

As Maria heads towards the designated conference room, she catches glimpses of agents of various levels scattering about. Mobilizing. Since the fall of the SHIELD before their current incarnation, their force has been small. But elite. She catches glimpses of agents suiting up as she passes equipment rooms. It looks to her like the majority of their small force is definitely mobilizing, and it causes her to wonder just what is going on. The building they currently call HQ is small, and within minutes she reaches the conference room. The door is closed, but it doesn’t bother her. Coulson wants her in there, so in she will go. She opens the door to find Coulson in there. What surprises her is that there is also Agents Skye, Triplett, Barton, May and Natasha. If the activity she passed hadn’t clued her in that something was wrong, the gathering of their current top agents not on missions located in one room would. She seats herself in her usual position, on Coulson’s right side, despite the director standing at the head of the table. Natasha glances at her for a moment, letting confusion flit briefly across the redhead’s face before she schools it into neutrality and turns to face their director. She, well, they all, wait for him to speak, but Maria can tell he’s trying to gather his words to phrase them just right.

“We have a situation.” He starts and Maria almost cracks a smile at how similar he sounds to Fury. He looks taken aback for a moment before collecting himself again, and she’s sure he caught it too.

“An entire office building has been taken hostage by a group calling themselves the Network. We received a call for help from one of the employees through email, the group themselves have not made any demands. They were in place when the building opened for the morning, most of the staff inside have been taken hostage.” He continues, flicking his wrist so that the data that has been gathered rises up onto the screen behind him.

“We have most of the teams mobilizing, this is going to be our largest operation since the fall. We must do this right, no casualties. Civilian or our own.” Coulson adds and the rest of the room nods in response to his words. Skye clears her throat, and Maria turns to the young agent with the rest of the room.

“These Network people aren’t usually this militarized. Someone is funding them. They’re usually peaceful protesters, something has changed. I’ve tried digging, and I can’t find anything. It’s super suspicious.” She says, and not for the first time Maria is impressed with Coulson’s young agent. Coulson nods at her words.

“Exactly. Which is why we’re breaking this into teams. Romanoff, I want you with Hill. You two go in, scope the situation out. We’ll only move in on your word. You’ll have a small team of agents with you, feel free to hand-pick them. Barton, I need you in the next high-rise with our snipers, watching from afar. You’ll only move if Hill and Romanoff give the word or something goes wrong. May, Triplett, you’re in command of the back-up. Skye, I want you on the ground, figuring out just what made a group of peaceful protesters take up arms and take hostages. We need to do this quickly and quietly.” Coulson turns to bring up further information on the screen.

“There are two-hundred and sixty-seven hostages, they’re being kept between the thirty-second and thirty-seventh floors. We don’t have an exact number on the attackers, but we estimate there are about seventy-five of them. From what little information we have, they are armed with semi-automatics and explosives. We’ve been unable to determine the actual specifics. The building itself is forty floors, with a roof access. They’ve locked off the elevators, and seem to be guarding the stairwells. Your best bet is the elevator shaft.” With another swipe of his hand, blueprints of the building in question fly up on the screen. Maria studies it, and she knows the others are doing it as well.

“Go suit up, we’ll stagger the mobile units and place them around the building so we don’t arouse suspicion. Hill, Romanoff, pick your team and have them meet in the garage, you’ll be taking the first unmarked vehicle.” Coulson finishes, and before he has even turned to face them, most of them are on their feet and heading for the door. Maria is a little puzzled that she’s been paired with Natasha, Coulson tends to keep both of them separate. But she knows he has his reasons, and recon tends to be both of their specialties. She waits behind for Natasha, and they leave the room together.

“I want Fredricks, Liesen, Keller and Jordan with us.” Natasha says, leading them both in the direction of their particular equipment room. Maria nods, it’s a good list.

“Add Rueller and Karlowe.” Maria says, sweeping into their locker room and heading for hers. 

“Sounds good.” Natasha calls from the other end of the room, and Maria can hear her fiance shuffling to get dressed. Maria is doing the same, shedding her civilian clothing and getting dressed in her tactical suit. Also kept in her locker are her weapons, and she arms herself after she finishes dressing. She moves to wait by the door, double-checking her fire-arms. Natasha takes longer, simply because she carries more weapons on her person. Maria tends to only carry two guns, ammo and a few knives. Natasha’s arsenal is legendary, not that Maria minds. It keeps her fiance safer, and Natasha does plenty more field work than Maria. Still, it doesn’t take Natasha long to meet Maria by the door.

“Let’s go collect our team.” Natasha says, and Maria wishes they could hold hands at that moment. But Natasha is all business, and Maria tends to be as well. They head out together, to track down their team and lead the group to the parking garage.


	8. Chapter 8

Once their team is gathered, they take the unmarked van that was designated. They’re to go in first, their small team is the reconnaissance unit. Eight people might be a little overkill, but both Natasha and Maria want to make sure this is done right. In the van, they discuss strategies. Natasha and Maria will take the top floors, and clear out unfriendlies. They pair the rest into teams of two, and each team takes a few floors. Their communication devices are already linked, and they designate a channel with HQ just for their unit. The general channel has already been established. They finish suiting up in the van as it’s driven to the location. It bothers Maria a little that the building in question is only eight blocks from their current HQ, it’s too close to home. She feels someone touch her leg and she turns to face her fiance. Natasha is offering a small smile, full of confidence. Maria wishes she could share the confidence, but her gut is in turmoil, she has a bad feeling about this operation. 

The van finally reaches the destination, a block behind the building. They all pile out, check their comms, and walk their separate ways. The sickening gut feeling doesn’t go away, and Maria swears it seems to grow. She’s trusted her gut before, so she meticulously checks her gear over one more time, and then scans the area a little more alertly than she would usually. Natasha catches it, of course she does, and Maria just shrugs. 

“I’ve got a bad feeling.” She says simply, letting her right hand rest on her side-arm. They’re not the big guns, the heavy artillery, so they’re both going in with just their usual gear. You can’t be terribly stealthy with a semi-automatic slung across your back. Natasha gives her a look and shrugs, taking point. Maria is tempted to argue about her fiance taking point, but she realizes the logic behind the situation. Natasha is faster and stronger than Maria, largely so. They walk into the back alley like they belong, and Natasha crouches down to pick the back door lock. Maria presses her back against the wall next to the door, her gun drawn and held towards the ground. She waits for the tell-tale click of the lock, and Natasha swings the door open, one of her own guns drawn. The hall-way is empty, and they enter the building, creeping along the walls. Maria knows Natasha has the floor plan memorized, and Maria has a good chunk of it memorized herself. Natasha is leading them towards the back elevator, the freight one. These people are going to expect an assault first, especially since it’s not common knowledge that SHIELD is back to operating in the shadows. Still, they don’t know this group well enough, they don’t know their tactics, so SHIELD’s best bet is to take this slow, and quietly. 

They come to a corner and Natasha signals for Maria to stop. She listens, pressing her back against the wall. Maria waits on Natasha’s lead, trusting her fiance’s heightened senses. Sure enough, Maria can soon hear someone walking up the hallway adjoined to the one they are in. Natasha is also pressed against the wall, and the footsteps they hear grow closer until a heavily armed man emerges. Still, he’s sloppy, and Natasha strikes. She has her garrote out and around the man’s neck before he can even react to their presence. Maria feels oddly useless, so she trains her gun on the man for insurance. It doesn’t take long for the man to pass out, and Natasha’s easily lowering his form to the floor. Within seconds, she has relieved the man of his weapons and zip-tied his wrists behind his back. Maria enjoys watching Natasha work, but she vows to take the next man out. Natasha tends to walk away with a larger head count, but Maria is always determined to walk away with a significant count of her own. She helps Natasha drag the man into a closet before they move on. The rest of the trip to the freight elevator is uneventful, and the elevator doors are wide open. Natasha goes in first, checking the corners before she clears it and Maria follows. Maria can only assume the majority of the guards are out in the front of the building.

“Coulson was right about their arms.” Natasha whispers, and Maria can tell she’s also talking on the open channel. The slight delay makes it weird, hearing it come from Natasha and then also from the link in her ear. But something Maria is intimately familiar with.

“What, they all have two?” Barton’s smart mouth returns, and before Maria can even berate him, Coulson shuts him up. Still, Maria smirks a little. Maria hits the button for the thirty-eighth floor and the doors close.

“I’ll take the vents on thirty-nine, you want to take the vents on another floor?” Maria asks, and her gut twists at the idea of splitting up. But they’ve got five floors to cover and clear, and two floors of suspected hostages, and they don’t have a lot of time to do it. Natasha nods, and she hits the emergency stop when they’re halfway to their destination. Then they both climb out of the top access and up the emergency across along the shaft. Maria’s gut twists again as she watches Natasha go first up the ladder. 

“I’ll take out the ones holding the hostages if I can.” She whispers back down to Maria, and Maria nods. She starts up the ladder herself, watching the floor numbers as she climbs. Natasha is much faster at ladders than she is, and at least two floors ahead of her as she scrambles up the ladder like her namesake.


	9. Chapter 9

Maria knows that Natasha is well in place by the time the brunette reaches the vents on her own floor. The radio chatter is comforting in her ear, but it does nothing to alleviate the roiling dread in her gut. She hopes that’s she’s being cautious, and she tries to push out her own memories of the last time she had this feeling of dread. It was just before SHIELD went under, and really, nothing like that is going to happen here. She doesn’t have precognition, SHIELD would have picked up on that ages ago. It’s her instincts, and they’re going wild. She pauses to take a deep breath before moving further into the ventilation shaft. She has a job to do, and she knows her team and everyone involved can handle themselves. After she is finished collecting herself she starts to scoot along the vents, ears open and periodically peering through the grates underneath her. Maria herself is on the thirty-eighth floor, with the intent to work downward. Simple reconnaissance, make sure the floor is clear. She spots one guard by the time she’s halfway through the circuit. Another one before she reaches the elevator shaft. Not much, she can take both of those out. She picks an empty hallway and drops down, falling silently from the ceiling. She pulls out her firearm, and holds it in the ready position, snaking along the hallways until she finds bother guards. She dispatches the first one without a fight, choosing a knife over her gun. He goes down with a gurgle, the knife lodged in his throat. Not her usual modem operandi, but Natasha had taught her some tricks. She’s nearly to the second guard when her ear piece once more crackles to life, and Natasha’s voice comes over it.

“Found the leader, he’s on the phone with someone. Heading for the stairwell, I’m going to follow.” Her voice rings through clear and suddenly Maria’s stomach just drops. That feeling of dread increases tenfold, but she has a job to do. There’s no danger. Not yet. 

“Be careful, Widow.” Coulson’s voice rings over, and Maria wants to grin. Like Natasha needs that kind of warning, but her fiance radios back an affirmative. Maria moves on, stalking the second guard. She’ll head towards Natasha once she’s cleared this floor. This one puts up a bit of a fight, but Maria’s already noticed the lack of ear pieces in these people. They have actual radios, and Maria absently wonders who even still uses those. She starts working towards the stairwell when Natasha’s voice comes over their link again.

“He’s heading up, only way up from here is the roof. No guards in the stairwells, this is getting suspicious.” Natasha’s quiet voice filters through, and Maria just knows she needs to follow her fiance. She takes the careful way towards the stairwell, watching corners, in case she missed any guards. Maria reaches the stairwell and peaks inside, making sure her way is clear. It is, so she heads up. Three floors and the entire way she moves slow, cautious. 

“He’s gone … just vanished? I can’t see him up here.” Natasha’s voice filters over as Maria reaches the door. She can partially hear Natasha’s voice from beyond the cracked door. Carefully Maria opens the door, and spots Natasha. And then she spots the man, with a gun raised. Before she can raise her own gun or shout at Natasha, the man fires. And her world shatters. She watches the force of the bullet slam into the right side of Natasha’s head, and her body is thrown to the ground. The man obviously doesn’t know Maria is there, and she can’t move. She stands there, frozen, staring at the rapidly growing puddle of blood around Natasha’s body. Engaged for less than a day, and she’s already lost Natasha. Everything goes numb, her mind, her body. She can’t feel anything, and she has one thing she absolutely needs to do. She slips out of the door and picks up one of Natasha’s guns, lying next to her fiance’s body. Dead, Natasha is dead and this man killed her. Rules no longer matter, and morals have completely gone out the window. Maria will make this man pay, despite not even knowing his name. He’s walking away from her, towards the edge, and she fires Natasha’s gun, hitting the back of the man’s knee-cap. He turns in surprise before he falls down, and Maria can feel the beginning of a wicked smile tug at the corners of her mouth. The man raises his hands and smirks at her.

“I surrender.” He says, calm and cool like Maria hadn’t just blown his left knee with a bullet. Maria stares at him. “Take me to SHIELD, take me into custody.” He wants that, she sees that so clearly. He’s not going to get what he wants. She raises Natasha’s gun, she hadn’t realized she had lowered it.

“No.” She says, clearly and loudly. Coulson is in her ear, demanding to know what is going on. Demanding to know why Natasha’s device is offline. Demanding answers. Maria doesn’t have it in her to explain, not at that moment. And Coulson would stop her from doing what she needs to do. 

“What?” The man is clearly puzzled, and she can see the edges of fear creeping into his expression. Good, he should be afraid. Because the one thing Maria loves … loved. Is dead. Her corpse is laying mere feet from where she and the man are, lying in a pool of blood. This man doesn’t deserve to live, he doesn’t deserve to walk away alive when Natasha is dead. She fires the gun into the man’s gut and now fear is plain on his face.

“That’s what you do, isn’t it? Take me in!” He gets a little frantic and Maria smiles a bit more. She empties another round into his gut. She knows she can’t draw this out like she wants to, Coulson is ordering a team to her location.

“You killed her. You don’t deserve mercy.” Later, she’ll be surprised that those words came out of her mouth. Now, however, they’re right. They’re what she needs to say. She can hear the other agents over her ear piece, now. It’s time for her to end it. She empties two more rounds into his chest, and he falls backwards, staring at her with open fear. And that’s when she fires, point blank, and hits him right between his eyes. He’s dead. Like Natasha. Maria tucks the gun into her belt and turns. It’s the first time she really looks at Natasha since she fell. There’s a large puddle of blood surrounding her, and she’s sprawled out. Maria swears she can feel her heart fracturing in two, even as she takes hesitant steps towards Natasha. Natasha is lying on her left side, so Maria can see the damage. Thankfully, there’s too much blood everywhere for her to see much past that. She falls to her knees beside her lover and gathers the still form into her arms. Maria’s throat is tight; it’s hard for her to believe this is actually happening. Maria Hill doesn’t cry, and she certainly doesn’t cry where other people could see her. And in that moment it’s taking all of her willpower to not break down into sobs. Her breathing hitches as she tries to prevent herself from crying.  
Natasha’s chest is pressed against her, and she feels a shift. But that’s not right. Maria stills as she feels the shift again, and she looks down. Natasha is breathing, she’s not dead. Her breathing is ragged and strained and barely there but she’s breathing. Natasha is not dead. And the world suddenly seems to focus again. Careful of Natasha’s head, she adjusts the other woman. There’s a chance, it’s probably slim, but there’s a chance.

“I need medics. Now!” She nearly screams it into her ear piece. Her voice is shaky and panicked, but Natasha is alive. She’s alive.


	10. Chapter 10

Maria holds on to Natasha, watching her face, watching her breathe. Because that’s all she can do, is watch. Natasha’s unconscious, limp in her arms. Maria thinks that’s probably not the best thing, but she’s so relieved that her fiance is alive that everything else is in the back of her mind. She’s afraid to touch Natasha’s head, afraid she’ll hurt the other woman more, or do something that might screw up the redhead’s chances. There’s blood all over Maria now, but she can’t bring herself to be bothered. Maria’s gaze drifts to the side of Natasha’s head, where the damage is. The blood mixes with her hair, matting it and darkening her normal shade of red. The wind kicks up around them and Maria forces herself to look up. There’s a helicopter landing nearby, and she knows that means the medical team is there. She doesn’t want to let go of Natasha, logic is creeping back in and she knows just how slim Natasha’s chances are with a bullet in her brain. She realizes this might be the last time she even sees Natasha alive. Bending over, she presses her lips to Natasha’s forehead. Even as she hears boots running towards them.

“Be strong. Please.” She whispers in Russian while her face is still close to Natasha’s. Then she lets her fiance be taken from her, while she’s left kneeling in the pool of Natasha’s blood. She can’t bear to look up, or watch the medics work. She feels a hand on her shoulder, but she doesn’t look up. Because she doesn’t want to see, she already knows that the image of Natasha with a hole blown in her skull won’t leave her. Ever. She only dares to look up once she’s heard the helicopter take off, and she finds that the hand she felt belongs to Coulson. He hasn’t removed his hand, and she looks at him. He looks angry, at first, but his expression softens when her eyes meet his. Like he can’t stay angry. Maria finds that she’s numb again, but a different numbness than before. Like her emotions are stunted, and all she can feel is fear. Fear for Natasha. She feels like she’s made of glass, and any blow would shatter her into a million pieces. She’s not used to feeling _delicate_. But that is how she feels now. Broken and delicate. Compromised. Her gaze drops from Coulson’s face, she’s not sure she wants him to see her face at these realizations. And she can’t bring herself to hide behind the mask she usually wears.

“What hospital are they taking her to?” She asks softly, and winces at how broken her voice sounds. But she can’t bring herself to try those words again, because she didn’t want to utter them in the first place. The hand on her shoulder tightens before Coulson drops to her level.

“Mount Sinai. They just called ahead, there will be a team waiting for her.” He says, and Maria lifts her head. It’s a good hospital, she knows that. But she misses the days when SHIELD had their own medical facilities. Where she knew the name of each department head. She doesn’t know who will be working on Natasha, and the idea scares her. She doesn’t even know if they’re equipped to handle a meta-human of Natasha’s level. But she trusts Phil Coulson. She trusts him with her own life. And above all, she trusts him with Natasha’s life. He wouldn’t jeopardize Natasha’s life, he wouldn’t take chances. She knows that, and a fraction of a smile flits briefly across her face as she looks him in the eye. She heaves in a breath and pulls herself to her feet. She’s torn, she knows she’ll have to meet with Coulson. Answer for killing Natasha’s shooter. Debrief and close down the mission, handle her team. There’s a job to do. But she also needs to be by Natasha’s side, even if that means a hospital waiting room. She frowns at Coulson, who has stood with her. 

“The building is clear of all hostiles. The threat has been neutralized and the hostages are safe.” Coulson answers before she can ask, and another smile flickers across her face. “But you and I need to have a talk. Which we will have on the way to the hospital. Barton’s taken control of your team as well as his own, and he’ll clean up here before meeting us at the hospital. I’m sure the rest of the Avengers will join us as well.” She hears the hidden statement in his words. Barton has likely already contacted the rest of their small circle, she knows the archer too well. She’s not looking forward to the talk with Coulson, she knows what she did wrong. But she doesn’t regret it, she’ll take any consequences that follow. She knows Phil, he won’t lock her up. He’ll find some way to punish her, but not like that. Taking a life doesn’t mean much in their line of work, though Maria counts each one she takes. But killing a man who had surrendered, she knows how dark and dirty that is. But she surprises herself in how she doesn’t feel guilt or regret. Coulson nods towards the stairwell and starts walking, and Maria follows. This time, they take the elevator down, and Coulson is silent the entire time. They walk out to one of the unmarked cars, and Maria watches as Coulson slides into the driver’s seat. She walks around to the other side and climbs in. They’re on the complete other side of the city than the hospital, so she knows they’ll have plenty of time for the talk she knows is coming. Without a word, Coulson starts up the car and pulls away from the curb. They drive in silence for a bit, and Coulson’s face is a mask. Maria can’t read him, and that tells her the level of anger he’s reached. She turns away and stares out the window. She doesn’t regret it, but she’ll take the punishment.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her talk with Coulson doesn't go as she planned, and the ride to the hospital is uneventful.

“You didn’t check.” Maria whips her head around at Coulson’s words. “You always check. But you didn’t.” She frowns, Coulson’s face is no longer entirely impassive, she can see some anger start to creep into his expression. His words don’t make sense, not at that moment, in the state of chaos she seems to be perpetually locked into.

“What?” She asks dumbly, staring at him.

“You didn’t check her pulse. You didn’t check if she was alive, you just snapped.” Coulson says and Maria blinks and flinches. He’s right, she didn’t. “We didn’t have visual on the roof until you executed him, we only had your ear-bud to go off of. We had no idea what was going on, Barton didn’t know if he needed to call for medical or what until you called for medics. We had no idea. How long was she laying there, Maria?” Maria turns away, she feels sick. Her hands ball into fists. This wasn’t the talk she was expecting, because her mind hadn’t made the connection. She had left Natasha lying in a pool of her own blood so she could get revenge. She had to have been laying there four, maybe five, minutes. She can’t even find the words to answer Coulson, she’s so disgusted at herself. She won’t even look at him.

“Is that what you wanted to talk about? To make me realize that I left her lying there in her own blood?” Her voice is broken, her entire world shattered, and she can’t bring herself to keep her voice level to her boss. She stares out the window, disgusted with herself. She would done it differently if she had known that Natasha had survived the initial impact. But people didn’t usually survive a bullet to the head.

“I didn’t think you had realized it. You thought we were going to discuss your execution of the shooter?” Maria finally turns back to Coulson when he lays a hand on her leg. “I can’t fault you for that, Maria. I would have done the same if it had been Clint. There will be some kind of consequence, yes. But I would be a hypocrite if I told you I wouldn’t have done the same exact thing. But that’s a discussion for another time. Our priority is Natasha. I already know that she is your priority, but we all care too.” Coulson turns to her while they’re stopped at the light. A flicker of a smile flits across her face before she can stop it. She knows what she’s done wrong, and she can only hope she’ll have the chance to make it up to Natasha. They ride in silence again until Coulson’s phone rings and he picks it up. Maria doesn’t pay attention to the conversation, she’s too busy stewing in her own regret to pay attention. Coulson’s hand returns to her leg and she turns to look at him.

“That was Stark, he’s called in every favor he could to get the right specialists to Mount Sinai. He’s already at the hospital with Steve. He said they’re prepping her for surgery now, but she’s already coded twice. They’re going to do everything they can for her, but Stark said it’s not looking good. Banner is going in with the surgical team, Stark said they called in favors for that too. We both know Banner knows her physiology better than anyone, she’s got a fighting chance, Maria.” Maria’s throat closes up at Coulson’s words. She hates being right, but she knows, realistically, Natasha’s chances are slim of even surviving this. And Maria can easily guess if she does survive, there will be damage. Probably significant damage. She doesn’t know a lot about brain damage past what she’s encountered SHIELD agents having, but she vaguely knows what it entails. She has to stop her train of thought forcibly to calm herself down, breathing heavily through her nose as her chest tightens with fear. She forces herself to close her eyes and work past the fear, she needs to be all there to be at Natasha’s side. _If_ , and she hates herself for doubting Natasha’s chances but Maria Hill is a realist, if Natasha survives, then Maria needs to be more than there to be by her fiance’s side. To deal with the fallout.

“We need to trust in her strength now, Maria.” Coulson’s words brings her fully back to herself and she nods stiffly. Natasha isn’t immortal, though. And Maria is so scared, so terrified. She turns back to the window to watch their path through the city. All too soon, or not soon enough, they’re pulling into the parking garage of the hospital. She’s out of the car in moments, but she has no idea which direction to head in. Coulson motions for her to follow, and she does. Somehow Maria is still holding herself together, but she’s not quite sure how. She wants to break down and cry, she wants to drown everything out in scotch, she wants to do so many things other than stepping foot in that hospital. Walking into the building with the knowledge that she might be leaving a widow before they’re even married. Still, she follows Coulson, gut twisting into knots and her heart in her throat. They end up in what looks like a private waiting room, where the rest of the team sits in various positions throughout the small room. They all lift their heads at her entrance, and Tony approaches them, hands held out in front of him.

“They’ve got her in surgery, they said the surgery will take a while.” He tells them. Maria finds herself nodding, it makes sense. They are extracting a bullet from Natasha’s brain. She has to close her eyes at that thought, and force herself to take a deep breath. She opens them and looks past Tony. Steve and Thor are off to one side, heads together and deep in conversation about something. Pepper is in the corner, on the phone with someone, talking in low tones. She knows Bruce is in with Natasha, and Clint is handling clean-up of the OP. Tony gives her a funny look but she just shakes her head and goes to one of the corners, away from the others, to sit. This is Natasha’s team, not hers. She really only feels close with Pepper and Coulson, and both are busy at the moment. Heaving a sigh, she closes her eyes to force herself to focus. When she opens them, Pepper is sitting down next to her.

“The neurosurgery team here is great, Maria. She’s in good hands, and when we know more, Tony and I will make sure she has the best.” Pepper tells her quietly, and Maria nods. It’s more than she can ask for, she knows Natasha will not want for care, not with how meticulous Tony and Pepper are.


	12. Chapter 12

Maria watches the doorway for a bit, Barton finally filtering in and talking quietly to Coulson. May pops in and does the same, before leaving as quickly as she came. Realistically, she knows the surgery is going to take a while. And the fact that it’s taking longer is a good thing, Maria tries to delude herself with that thought. It means Natasha is still alive, she can only hope. She finally forces her gaze away from the door, and instead watches the team and Coulson. Their expressions are just as grim as hers, and she has to look down at the floor. She’s sure her own expression is a mirror of theirs. No one is even trying to maintain a poker face, not here. Not with their entire make-shift family present. Natasha’s family, at least. A hand lands on her shoulder and she turns sharply to face Pepper. The other woman is offering a hesitant smile, and Maria wants to take it. Wants to take the hope she sees in Pepper’s face. She wants to make it her own hope, but she can’t. She finally just shakes her head and glances back down. The hand doesn’t leave her shoulder, and Maria tries to take comfort in the support Pepper is offering. Tries to, and fails. She’s not sure how to rely on other people, not sure how to take support. If this had been anyone else she would have been able to force herself back together. But this is Natasha, the woman who proposed to her less than twenty-four hours ago. This is the woman who has made up Maria’s life for years, consumed the grief and sadness Maria forced herself to live with. Replaced it with everything Maria never thought she deserved. And Maria can’t find her center, can’t find her core, can’t even begin to piece herself together.

“Maria.” She snaps her head up at her name, and finds Coulson standing in front of her. He hands her a tablet and she stares blankly at it, unsure what he’s handing it to her for. “Do your mission report. And Natasha’s, as best you can. When you’re finished with that, I’ll send you the information Skye gathered on the terrorists. There are some things you’re going to want to see.” Maria nods numbly; work she can do. She realizes she’ll have to document the incident, and her actions, but she can work towards that. Coulson is giving her work to do, to distract her. She’s grateful for that, and she hopes he understands that. A small nod from him and she pulls her legs up onto the chair and balances the tablet on her knees. She plans to bury herself in mission reports, these she can do in her sleep. She gets to work on the tablet, letting the work consume her world for a bit.

Maria’s not sure how long it took to finish both hers and Natasha’s, but when she finally surfaces from the work, she finds the room is short two people. Steve and Thor are absent, and it puzzles her. She wonders how long both reports took her, and actually glances at the clock on the tablet. About two and a half hours, it seems. She looks up again, searching the room for the two blonds.

“Steve and Thor are getting everyone food. Coulson suggested we eat now, instead of waiting until later.” Pepper explains before Maria even has to ask. The brunette finds herself slowly nodding to that, Maria finds that despite everything, she is perhaps a little hungry. She thinks of the leftovers in the break room fridge at HQ, the Cassata she wonders now if she’ll even get to taste. She’s suddenly unsure if she’ll ever be able to eat it again. Her mind drifts back to that dark place where she finds herself doubting Natasha’s chances. That cold rock of fear settles back into her gut, and suddenly Maria’s appetite is gone. She swallows thickly and glances back at the tablet. Coulson said there were things she’d want to see, so she forces her gaze back up and turns to Coulson.

“Food first, then I’ll transfer the information,” he tells her and she swallows again. She’s not sure she’ll be able to eat, and she shakes her head at him. “Food, then information.” He tells her again and she sighs. She knows that tone of voice, she’ll not be able to sway him on that. Maybe she’ll be able to force something down; she’s a soldier, she can eat when she has to. Not that she’s had to worry about that in years. But she doubts she’s lost the ability. Her attention shifts when Steve and Thor enter the room with take-out containers. A container is handed to everyone and Maria takes her numbly. She opens the box and eyes the contents skeptically. It’s just a sandwich and some chips, but she knows Coulson won’t give her the info until she’s eaten something. So she picks up the sandwich and eats it without tasting it. She couldn’t even tell what was in the sandwich. Then she holds out the tablet to Coulson, who had perched next to her to eat. He eyes her and then takes the tablet and taps the screen a few times before handing it back.

For the second time she finds herself lost in work, digging through paper trails and money trails and data logs. She waits to read Skye’s notes last, she always likes to see if she’ll come to the same conclusion. When she gets to the end, she frowns at the screen. Despite the roundabout trails, it’s obvious HYDRA funded the terrorists, and quite possibly pushed them into action. She skims Skye’s notes and finds the hacker came to the same conclusion. It leaves a sour taste in her mouth, there’s no one person she can go after for this. HYDRA is scattered across the world, the new SHIELD still trying to take them out. She sighs heavily and blinks, turning her focus to the clock on the tablet. Almost six hours since they walked in, and no word. She’s unsure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. She numbly hands the tablet back to Coulson and settles for staring blankly at the doorway. She’s relieved she doesn’t have to wait long, but her anxiety soars through the roof when Bruce walks in, trailing behind a middle aged woman in scrubs. Maria lurches to her feet, unsteady. She finds a hand on her back, steadying her, but she pulls away. She needs to stand on her own two feet for this, she needs to face it. She’s already trying to read Bruce’s expression and posture. It’s hard, though. She only reads exhaustion in his features and she’s not sure whether that’s a good thing or not.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria thinks she might be prepared for the news. She's not.

“She pulled through surgery,” Bruce starts and Maria sags with relief. Until she notices the _but_ in his voice. Her focus sharpens on Bruce and she waits for him to continue. “But there was significant damage to the right hemisphere of her brain …” Maria’s throat closes up, even as she cannot pull her gaze away from Bruce. He has the information she needs, and she watches him glance down at his hands in what she has come to recognize as one of his nervous habits. The entire room is silent while they wait for the rest of Bruce’s words. “Right now she’s comatose, hopefully her healing with be able to take care of a good portion of the damage. I won’t lie, her chances are still very slim. The damage is too significant for her healing to take care of it all, we’re definitely looking at permanent damage. How it will manifest, and how significant the damage will be is still up in the air.” She watches Bruce glance down again at his hands and she just sags further. Realistically she knew that was the most likely outcome, no one walks away from being shot in the head without some sort of damage. She both knows just enough and not enough about head injuries and brain damage to be utterly afraid. She has to sit down, and at the same time she needs to see Natasha. The ring on her hand feels impossibly heavy, but she doesn’t dare remove it. She simply holds the hand close to her chest and tries not to break down right there. No one is speaking, she supposes they’re all in shock. She takes a deep breath before she asks what she needs to.

“Can I see her? Please.” Maria winces at how broken her voice sounds, how defeated and utterly exhausted she sounds. She can’t bring herself to bring herself up to par, can’t bring herself to be the emotionless hard-ass persona she usually wears. She can’t bring herself to be much of anything. Bruce looks at her like he’s finally seeing her, and he bites his lip. He turns to the woman beside him, but she definitely notices how his gaze briefly lingers on the ring she’s wearing. It’s not Bruce who answers her question, but the woman who followed him in.

“I think we can allow that very briefly.” The woman says, and motions for Maria, and Maria alone, to follow her. She wonders if Bruce explained anything to this woman, or if she’s being that obvious. Maria does follow, she _needs_ to see Natasha with her own eyes. As she leaves the room she hears a brief snippet of conversation starting.

“Did you notice the ring?” Steve’s voice follows her out of the room, as does Tony’s “Shit.” She’s not looking for sympathy, nor does she want pity. She supposes she’ll have to deal with both from the team, at least until someone shuts them down. She really can’t blame them, though. They love Natasha too, in their own ways. They’re hurting too from this, she knows that logically. But all she can really focus on is the dread sitting in her gut, the dread of seeing her fiance laid out. She’s not sure she’ll be able to stomach it, but still she follows. She needs to see Natasha, to see the proof that she’s alive. The walk is longer than she expected, and yet she feels it’s all too soon that they’re standing outside of two double doors.

“I can give you five, maybe ten minutes alone with her, and then you’ll have to go back. This isn’t really procedure, but we’re going to be keeping a close eye on her until the swelling goes down a bit. Which could be anytime from a few hours to several days.” The woman says, and Maria absently finds she likes the woman’s approach. Maria nods, and the woman walks through the doors. Maria follows, and they end up outside a room. The woman nods and motions to the open door before turning and walking off. Maria stands there for a few moments, trying to swallow down the lump of fear. She has limited time, she needs to use it to its fullest. Taking a deep breath, she steels herself before walking into the room. She had thought, maybe, that she was prepared. She isn’t. The quiet tones of the EKG greet her before she’s even fully turned. But the sight of Natasha, lying still and pale on the bed, causes her breath to catch in her throat. She can’t even breathe, and she stands there, utterly still.

“Tasha.” Maria finally finds her voice and the courage to walk forward. She looks so damn small on the bed, dwarfed by everything around her. The tubes and wires trailing from everywhere, even her head, frighten Maria. What little she can see of Natasha’s hair is dull, not the usual vibrant red Maria is used to. She’s not sure if that’s a trick of the light or something more, but she definitely notices the significant lack of hair on the right side of her head. There’s no chair to sit down in, and she’s not sure she’d be able to sit. She’s honestly lost track of how much time she has left to see her fiance, so she bends down next to the bed. She’s too afraid to touch Natasha’s head, or even her face, so she gently takes her fiance’s hand in her own and presses her lips to the redhead’s knuckles.

“You’re strong, I know you are. Please, just survive this. I can’t lose you, we haven’t even been engaged for two days. You can’t do this to me, you can’t leave me after proposing. After giving me this ring. You need to survive this, Natasha. I don’t care how selfish this makes me sound, but I need you. I need you more than I need anything else, anyone else, in my life.” She can’t be bothered to worry about how often her voice cracks with emotion, the words needed to be said. Even if Natasha can’t hear her, she needs to say them. Like a prayer, if she believes in that sort of thing. “Please be okay. Please.” She whispers adding onto her previous words. She presses another kiss to Natasha’s limp hand. Maria notices someone else in the room, and turns slightly to find the doctor from earlier. Her time must be up. She gently returns Natasha’s hand to the bed and stands. Ever so carefully, she reaches out and brushes the back of her fiance’s cheek with the back of her hand. And then she turns and heaves a sigh. The woman before her has a sympathetic expression on her face, and Maria averts her eyes. She doesn’t want to see that kind of look, from anyone.

“We’ll eventually move her to a private room where there can be visitors.” The woman says and Maria nods. She understands it, though she wishes she didn’t. She’s spent enough time in medical facilities, with Natasha and others, that she knows the procedure. Without prompting, she starts heading back towards the waiting room. As much as Natasha’s team isn’t hers, they’re still Maria’s friends. And they have as much right to information as she does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went and did a read through of the prior chapters and fixed some errors and consistency issues. Nothing major, so don't worry about it. Just little things that bugged me.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria finally loses her composure.

She uses the time walking back to try and put her defenses back up, to try and get her walls back up. She needs to not fall apart in front of her boss and Natasha’s team. After a few minutes she has a shaky, semblance of her emotional defenses up. Enough that she can face the Avengers briefly. Though, when she reaches the room from before, she finds only Pepper and Steve there, the CEO engrossed in a tablet and the Captain staring intently at a folder in his hands. She stands aimlessly at the door for a few moments before Pepper looks up and offers her a hesitant smile.

  
“Everyone else went home, Bruce and Steve are going to stay here. We weren’t sure if you wanted to stay or go back to the Tower for a bit.” She says, standing. Maria hesitates at the door. She suddenly feels the grime from the mission, of crawling through vents and elevator shafts. And Natasha’s dried blood on her clothes and hands. Maria also knows she needs to eat and try and catch a few hours of sleep, but she doesn’t want to leave. She knows she’s only barely holding herself together, and she feels as if a strong wind could knock down all of her defenses.

  
“You’re going home, you’re going to eat, shower and sleep. Not necessarily in that order. You look like shit and she won’t be moved to a private room until morning, at the very earliest. You won’t do her or you any favors by exhausting yourself or ignoring basic necessities.” She almost jumps out of her skin as Bruce approaches from behind her. Jerking slightly and turning sharply to meet him, and he gives her a very pointed look that she can only interpret as her actions proving his point. She wonders exactly how she’ll be getting home, her car is still at HQ and Coulson seems to be long gone. Maria finds she’s agreeing with Bruce though, it’ll do her good to get cleaned up. Because she has little doubt she’ll be leaving the hospital for very long after they settle Natasha in. Still, part of her argues against it. Part of her wants to stay, wants to be right here if there’s any kind of news. Realistically she knows Bruce will call her first, but the part of her that wants, no, _needs_ , to stay isn’t rational.

  
“I can take you home, Maria. I was just waiting to see if you wanted or needed a ride.” Pepper says, suddenly behind Maria. She flinches again, and really realizes how far off her game she really is. Slowly nodding, she heaves in a deep breath to try and center herself.

  
“Yeah, I’d appreciate that.” She says softly, unable to dredge up a smile for Pepper. She’s just too damn tired. The entire day, combined with how little sleep she actually had last night, is really getting to her. Pepper does smile at her though, and Maria finds herself nodding and then following her out of the room. She glances back to find Bruce walking over to Steve, and then turns to glance in the direction she went in to see Natasha. Like she could see her through all of the walls. _Please, be strong. Please survive this._ She thinks to herself, almost like a silent prayer. She knows she doesn’t deserve anything after the life she has led, but she hopes that whatever luck is left to her in the world goes towards her fiance.

  
Maria finally turns her attention to Pepper, she’s been noticing the looks Pepper has been sneaking. They’re not sympathetic or pitying looks, for which Maria is grateful. But it’s like Pepper just knows how brittle her emotional walls are. Like she’s just expecting Maria to break down. The brunette knows she won’t break down in public, but when she reaches her and Natasha’s apartment she won’t be able to hold it together. She’ll allow herself to break down. Pepper makes a motion to reach out to Maria, but the brunette backs away and evades it. She doesn’t want to be touched by anyone right now, anyone that’s not Natasha. The one person she needs right then is fighting for her life and Maria’s completely out of her element. She just focuses on following Pepper’s lead, the sooner she gets home, the sooner she can let the day fully hit her and let out the emotions she’s been bottling up. They reach Pepper’s car, and Maria’s more than a little surprised Pepper drove herself. But she supposes that there might not have been time. She can only imagine the mad rush everyone was in to get to the hospital. Pepper motions for her to get in and she follows that order, grateful for not having to drive. She’s not entirely sure she’d be able to drive home on her own.

  
The drive back to the tower is quiet, Pepper doesn’t offer comfort through encouraging words, and Maria finds herself grateful for Pepper yet again. When they arrive, Maria gets out of the car without prompting and starts heading directly for the elevator. She only barely notices Pepper following her. Maria needs to be in her own space, she needs to be in a place where she can break down. Because she’s not handling herself well anymore. The elevator ride is short, as if JARVIS can sense her need to be home, and Pepper rides with her.

  
“Maria, do you …” She trails off, stilling standing in the elevator. Maria infers the question and pauses. Does she want company? She trusts Pepper, and frankly, she doesn’t want to be alone. Turning, she slowly nods. Pepper steps out of the elevator into the apartment.

  
“I need a shower.” Maria says softly, motioning to the living room for Pepper. The brunette hastily exits the room and heads for their bedroom. Natasha’s clothes from last night are still discarded on the floor, while Maria’s are in a neat little pile off to the side. She can’t bring herself to pick them up. Stripping right there in the bedroom, she adds her uniform to the pile to get washed and quickly grabs comfortable clothes for the night. A quick glance to the bed makes Maria realize something. She’s not sure she’ll be able to sleep in their bed alone, not as things stand now. The couch and guest bedroom are always options, but she’ll approach that problem when the time comes.

  
 _I can do this._ She tells herself as she heads into the bathroom. She deposits the clothes on the closed toilet seat and takes a deep breath. She’s grimy, she needs a shower. And she can cry in the shower, and no one will notice. She starts the water and climbs in, soaking her hair instantly. Maria plans for a quick shower, so she’s efficient and wastes no time. But at the end, she can’t bring herself to get out. She slides to the floor of the shower and wraps her arms around her knees and decides it’s as good a time as any to let go. She _cries_ , silent heaving sobs the shake her body. The water is still on, and she lets it wash away the salty tears. Maria Hill does not cry, but she’s started and she can’t stop. She has so many reasons to keep crying, and not a single one to stop. She cries at the thought of losing Natasha, she cries over the fear that she’ll never get to marry the only person she’s loved as deeply as she could. She cries in anger at the man she executed, the man who in death still might rob her of the truly good thing in her life. Maria wants to strike out, hit something in anger. But she won’t let herself go that far, she won’t let herself get angry. There’s no one to get angry at, not anymore. So she just cries. She’s really not sure how long she’s been in the shower, but it is long enough for the water to run cold. Suddenly the water shuts off, and Maria snaps her head up to see Pepper crouching next to the shower. She hadn’t noticed the bathroom door open, or someone enter.

  
“Maria.” She swallows hard, and the tears refuse to stop. Pepper’s voice is gentle and she doesn’t know how to take that, so she turns her face away. A towel is draped over her shoulders, even as they shake with sobs. She’s undone at the seams and she can’t find her center, can’t figure out how to compose herself. The brunette soon finds herself in Pepper’s arms and the crying still won’t stop. She knows Pepper is trying to comfort her, but she doesn’t know how to take comfort from other people. Natasha is the exception, she always has been.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The breakdown finally comes, or so Maria thinks.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.” Pepper says, pulling away and crouching next to the brunette. She tries to urge Maria into standing. The violent sobs have died down, but tears still streak down her face. Maria shakes her head, she’s cold, probably shivering, but she doesn’t think her legs will hold her. She sees Pepper nod and settle back down next to her.

“I know you’re hurting, we all are too. Not as much as you are, but we are. But you don’t have to do this alone. You’re a part of this family as much as anyone. You have a support system, Maria. We can all get through this together.” Pepper says after a few moments, and Maria turns to face her. Her walls are down, and she rationalizes that it makes her braver.

“I don’t know how to rely on other people. It was always Natasha. Is always her.” Maria says softly, her voice hoarse from crying. Her face falls when she mentions Natasha and she drops her head back onto her knees, but angled so she can watch Pepper. The blond just reaches out and lays her hand on one of Maria’s.

“I understand that, I do. You know that I do, but you can learn how to let other people in. How to let us help you. You can’t do this by yourself. And I’m not calling you weak, or anything like that. No one could do this by themselves. And no one should have to try.” Pepper’s voice is gentle, and Maria wants to believe her. Wants to let people in. But she’s not sure she can even learn how to anymore.

“It’s not arrogance, I just never learned. Before her, it was just me. And I learned how to do things alone.” Maria responds after a moment, flinching at a particular memory. She closes her eyes and lets the tears come.

“I know it’s not. Just trust me, Maria. Trust me and let me help you. And let the others help. Don’t refuse us when we offer to help because you think you can do it on your own. Let us support you.” Maria opens her eyes and reaches up to wipe her eyes. She’s still not sure she can do what Pepper wants, what Pepper is saying. But she supposes it can’t hurt. These are people Natasha let into her life, people Natasha trusts with her life. And Maria knows her fiance doesn’t trust easily. Maria lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in. The tears have at least stopped, but her nose is stuffy and her head hurts. She hasn’t cried like that in years. It takes her another long moment to realize she’s completely naked on her shower floor with Pepper crouched next to her. She shakes her head to clear it.

“Ready to get out? You should eat something and then try to sleep.” Pepper’s voice is gentle and Maria nods. She wraps the towel tighter around her, angling it to cover more than it is; she’s not body shy, she’s done communal showers, but something about being naked at that particular moment makes her feel more vulnerable than she has in years. She doesn’t like the feeling, and averts her gaze from Pepper’s even as she takes the blond’s hand. With Pepper’s help and the support of the shower wall, Maria’s able to get herself on her feet. It takes her another moment to steady herself before she pulls away from Pepper and turns to dry off. When she turns back to grab the clothes she laid out Pepper is still there, eying her speculatively.

“I’m not going to fall apart.” Maria says gruffly, though that’s exactly how she feels. She’s not used to being vulnerable in front of people, only Natasha and Phil have, and with Phil it was once. She usually has such a great handle on her emotions. A small sigh before she gets dressed, she knows food will come up next. She’s not hungry, but she’ll force herself to eat. There should be leftovers from the night before in the fridge, and while the idea of eating that food turns her stomach, it’s quick and easy. She’ll go with that. “I’m okay now, Pepper. You don’t have to stay. I’ll eat and sleep and take Tasha’s car in the morning.” Maria says once she’s dressed in her comfortable clothes. Pepper is still eying her carefully and Maria challenges the CEO with her body and face. Non-verbal cues are Maria’s expertise, and her walls are slowly going back up, quicker than Maria expected they would be. Well, they’re up enough for Maria to fake being better at that moment.

“I don’t believe you, but if you need anything, JARVIS can find one of us.” Pepper finally says, leaning in to hug Maria. The brunette allows it, she trusts Pepper, so the touch is somewhat soothing. But Maria had her breakdown, she’ll be able to face the world now. And maybe she’ll try leaning on others, but not right then. She needs to be alone. Pepper finally leaves and Maria pads out to the kitchen to heat up some leftover roast and vegetables. She’s able to force herself to eat enough to sustain her energy before putting everything away. She’s still so wound up, coiled like a spring, but she also knows she needs to sleep.

She finally forces herself to go to their bedroom again. She pulls out what she’ll need for the night, bundles it up in her arms, and heads for the spare bedroom. She knows she won’t be able to sleep in the bed she usually shares with Natasha, not with her fiance’s scent all over everything. This is so different from their usual time away from each other. This still feels wrong, leaves a rock in Maria’s gut. Natasha’s scent, her blankets and pillows and even those two stupid rotund plushes, that damned tiger and smaller dragon. Maria sighs as she lays her stuff on the guest bed, and turns around. She goes right back to their master bedroom and plucks up the stupid tiger, it’s pretty damn massive for a plush, maybe it will help her sleep. Finally sorted, she goes back to the guest bed and sorts everything out. It doesn’t take long before she climbs in, curls up and clutches the plush tiger to her chest. She really hopes she can get some sleep, but finds herself staring at the wall for what seems like ages.

_Too slow. Yet again, she’s too slow. Everything seems to get going to fast, she can;t keep up, her reflexes are inadequate. Yet again she watches the shot, watches Natasha fall, her movements slowed until everything just stops. She’s on the ground and Maria’s staring blankly at the man, except he doesn’t have a gun in his hand. She does. A strangled cry rips it way out of her throat as she screams at the world, at the people around her, screams at everything._

The noise wakes her up, the noise coming from her. She sits bolt upright, shaking and struggling to regain her breath. She knows it was a dream, but it was so realistic. She can still smell the gunpowder, feel the weight of the gun in her hand. Feel the sun on the rooftop, and the thick scent of blood. It stands out in her mind, in stark contrast to any other night terror she’s had. She’s used to them, you get used to them with a life like hers. But she never wakes up screaming, she never wakes up _this_ shaken. Hasn’t in years. It takes her several minutes to calm down and re-orient herself. It doesn’t help she’s never slept in this room, so it’s unfamiliar in the dark. She’s still unsettled when she motions for the lights to come on, and she sits there on the bed even longer trying to regulate her breathing. Glancing down, she finds that she’s clutching the tiger to her chest. Maria closes her eyes and presses her face against the fluffy plush, inhaling Natasha’s scent that still heavily lingers on it. Finally, she glances over at her phone to check the time. A little over three hours of sleep in her, she can work with that. She knows she’s not sleeping again that night. Laying the tiger on her pillow, she sighs and makes a decision. If she’s not going to sleep, she’s going to keep busy. Maria grabs her phone and climbs out of the bed, heading for the master bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two plushes are squishables that Nat was given and she kept because they're adorable and amazing pillows. The tiger one is the Golden Tiger and the dragon is the Eastern Dragon.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria loses it again.

Her decision is probably not the best one, but it’ll work for her. She heads straight for her dresser in their bedroom, pulling out work-out clothes. Maria will work herself sore, and then probably continue well on after that. She needs the physical activity and the stress on her body will force her mind away from the dark place it lingers in, leftovers from the night terror. It seems it’s pretty often that either she or Natasha are thankful that their floors are soundproofed, since she’s sure that the noise of her screaming would send people running to her aid. Not that she needed it when warring with her own mind, her own subconscious. Her guilt over the previous day is weighing heavily against her fear for her fiancee. Maybe a good portion of her guilt isn’t warranted, but Maria can point out several points where it’s heavily justified. Her mind races in circles as she takes the fresh clothes into the bathroom to change. She’ll shower after working out, even though she’s already sticky and sweaty from her rough night. Suddenly, she doesn't want to be in the apartment any longer than she has to and changes quickly. Donning sneakers, she practically runs out of the apartment and towards the elevator. Her mp3 player and phone shoved in her pockets, she wrings her hands in frustration. 

Maria Hill knows the dangers of their jobs, knows the dangers of just being who they are. This doesn’t make the situation any easier to process. Natasha proposed. Maria said yes. They are engaged. To be married. It’s just a ring, she tries to tell herself. This changes nothing, they’ve always been this close. It’s just a ring, she repeats to herself. But it changes so much. It changes everything. Maria wanted to propose years ago but she knew that Natasha wasn’t ready for that level of commitment. And now they’re engaged. And Maria’s not even sure she’ll have a fiance when she eventually makes her way to medical. She can’t get out of that head space. She needs a distraction and there’s a gym located conveniently in the Tower. At this time of night, she’s hoping she won’t encounter anyone. It’s not likely with the current turn of events, but then again, she’s not sure how the rest of the occupants are reacting to the situation. Still, there are private rooms. A lot of thought went into the Tower and she’s grateful for it. 

As the elevator descends, she pulls out her mp3 player and starts fiddling with it. She needs something angry and loud, loud enough to drown out everything in her head. Maria leans up against the side of the elevator as she messes with the device in her hand. None of the playlists she’s coming up with sound appealing at that moment, until her fingers flick across the lists Natasha had made for her. A particular one catches her eye. Maybe it is just a coincidence, but Natasha was … is big on caring for her partner. In whatever capacity Maria needs at the time. They’re both like that but Natasha does things in small ways. So the set of playlists from her fiancee, varying genres and a variety of artists, there’s one that Natasha made ages ago. It’s titled something in Russian and, while Maria speaks the language fluently, her abilities suddenly escape her. Something about rage and feminine attributes, not that it matters at the moment. Maria remembers the playlist well, female vocalists in heavy and strong rock or metal songs. The playlist has a variety of languages, but the lyrics don’t matter to Maria in that moment. The tones and sounds are what she needs. Without a second thought she queues up that playlist and pops her earbuds in. The gym is dark when the elevator doors open, which is perfect. That means it’s empty. She doesn’t bother to wrap her hands and doesn’t spare a moment to consider her motives behind that decision.

Maria sets herself up and wanders around the gym for a moment, not bothering to turn on the lights. She’s not sure if she wants it dark or lit up, so she walks around the room, trying to sort herself out. When she finally cycles back around to the lights, she’s decided to keep it dim. Just a few lights for the massive room will give her enough light to see by and make sure it’s not dark enough that her fears start crawling out of the woodwork. Squaring her shoulders, she walks over to her personal favorite bag and readies her stance. She closes her eyes and lets the music flow through her before she launches herself at the bag. Maria Hill tends to be a visual person, but for once, she doesn’t imagine the bag to be anyone. No, she imagines it to be the abstract of her fears and emotions. If she can beat the crap out of that, then maybe she’ll feel less like falling apart.

The rising heat in her limbs and thin veneer of sweat start pushing away the exhaustion and fear, which is exactly what she wanted. The force of her blows on the bag is satisfying. She was glad Steve insisted they keep the old fashioned sand ones around because when she slips and hits the bottom, the pain is actually rewarding. She loves the way the sand collects and hardens on the bottoms of the bags, how a slip forces you to correct your form. With the water and gel ones you don’t get that. And she’s going at it with all of her limbs. Maria’s a brawler, she knows that. Yes, she knows several martial arts. But she fights like a tank, all fury and power. While Natasha is graceful and fights like a dancer, Maria’s style is similar to Steve’s. 

The force of her blows causes the chain suspending the bag to rattle loudly. She can hear it over her music and the sound adds an extra layer of satisfaction. She starts to lose herself in the music and fighting, zoning out and letting her body take control. This normally doesn’t happen so soon into her exercises but she’s exhausted and stressed. She has a few moments of peace before her mind is drifting back to the previous day. It’s like daydreaming, but far less pleasant. As she lands each blow, the images grow sharper and more twisted. Her mind spirals down into that dark place that caused her to wake up screaming. Her movements grow more frantic as she grows more fearful, the bag swinging further back as she starts to lose control over her own strength. Maria Hill is losing the fight with her internal demons. 

She replays the scene from the prior day, the wind whipping through her hair. But the perspective is wrong, she’s not in the right place on the roof. Her body moves without her commanding it and she watches the gun in her hands level its sights against Natasha. She feels her finger, and yes, those are still her hands, pull down and fire the weapon. The kick feels so real, something she’s felt thousands of times before. But the scene before it, it’s so real. She can smell the air and gunpowder. And the blood. The overwhelmingly coppery scent of blood. She stands there, stunned at what she has done.

Maria jerks back from the bag, staring down at her own hands. There’s no gun, but her hands are bloody. Her entire body is sore and she’s not sure how long she’s been in the gym. With her chest heaving, she drops to her knees, gaze still locked on her bloody hands. It felt so real, her holding the gun. She can still feel it’s weight in her hands, still feel the warmth from firing it. Suddenly, it feels like something is crawling beneath her skin. Like she’s responsible for it. Like she had actually shot her fiancee. She starts clawing against her own skin, her bloody hands leaving marks and nails leaving welts behind. Her chest heaves as she devolves into a full blown panic. These aren't tears, this isn’t sadness. This is fear and anger, so much fear. She’s not sure how long she claws at her skin but before she really processes what is happening, her hands are caught up in someone else’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm sorry this took an age and a half to update. Life things and other things and just a lot of stuff has snowballed in the past several months. Expect at LEAST monthly updates now, and probably chapter 17 coming in the next week or two. I also ended up making a playlist for the series(there's at least one sequel in the works too) it's here: http://8tracks.com/kuailong/my-mirror-speaks . I have a few fics I'm going to be rolling out in the next two months, so there's that too.


	17. Chapter 17

It takes her several moments to recognize the hands. She hasn’t lifted her head, mainly because she can guess at what he face looks like. There is blood welling up where Maria scratched herself, but she can’t bring herself to care. Still, it takes more than a few minutes to recognize the overly large and calloused hands as belonging to Steve. She’s a goddamn wreck, but she’s glad it’s only the people close to Natasha, and her, that are seeing her like this. She can’t even begin to voice how grateful she is for that fact. There’s a persona Maria Hill needs to maintain, and it’s crumbling around her. But she’s safe in the Tower, safe around friends, if not family. 

Steve doesn’t speak, he seems to be waiting for her to make the first move. She’s bleeding on him, though, and she’s pretty sure bleeding on Captain America is against every law written. A small snort of laughter escapes before she can stop herself. Steve’s hands tighten around hers, and she bleeds on him more. She laughs again, she can’t help it.

“Maria, are you okay?” Does she look okay? Probably not. Can she get away with lying? Definitely not. Still, she tries to pull her hands back, but matching strength against Steve even on a good day is a hopeless cause.

“I’m bleeding on Captain America.” She laughs again, at the absurdity of it. One of Steve’s hands lets go to grip her chin, forcing Maria to look at him. “No, I’m not okay, Steve. I won’t be for a while. But I think I’ve gotten what I had to out of my system.” She can still hear the gunshot echo, and if she looks at her own hands sideways, can see the blood. But she knows that those weren’t the real memories. Still, she attempts a reassuring smile. She’s doing what she, and Natasha, have always done best. Bury their feelings under layers of mental concrete. Besides, she had a good cry. And she had her mental break. It’s all par for the course, this kind of grieving. It’s not her first time through this. 

“You’re not the first dame to bleed on me.” Steve says, matching her smile and letting out a reassured huff. “And I think Nat has you beat on the whole bleeding on Captain America thing.” Maria huffs a laugh and pulls her hand away, finally. The mention of Natasha is painful, but her fiance is not dead. There’s no mourning to be had, just grief.

“I’m sure she does.” Maria says softly, pulling in a deep breath. She needs to pull herself together. And she knows she can, at least a little. Maria needs to be strong for her fiance, strong to face whatever comes out of this. 

“Let’s get those arms taken care of, yeah?” Maria shakes her head.

“They’re only minor scratches, I can cover them with band-aids in my apartment.” Mostly, she wants a shower and a change of clothes. And then to go see Natasha. There’s been no word, and that both worries and reassures Maria. Still, Steve gives her a concerned look. She quirks an eyebrow, but accepts the hand to help her to her feet. And then they stand there in awkward silence for several minutes. Finally, Steve ducks his head and shuffles over to one of the punching bags. She stands there a few moments longer to watch Steve, before turning to head back to her apartment. 

“Thanks.” She calls back to Steve as she pops out her earbuds. She can almost picture the baffled look on his face, and when she turns, she’s greeted with just that.

“For what?” He asks and she offers him a sad smile.

“For not offering sympathetic bullshit or meaningless platitudes.” She answers, the smile turning into a smirk. He blinks slowly at her before it dawns on him and he nods, understanding. 

“I know how unwanted those things are.” He says softly, and it’s Maria’s turn to nod. And then she’s turning and heading back to the elevator. The emotional roller coaster of the past twenty-four hours is definitely taking its toll, and she’s rather sick of her emotions cycling far too swiftly. She knows why her emotions are acting like this, but she doesn’t have to be happy about it. 

When she reaches the apartment, phone and mp3 player are tossed on the table as she heads straight for their bedroom. She has clothes and is in the shower in record time, she still has a hard time looking at the bed. Now that her mind is clear, she starts to really think about Bruce’s words. They don’t know anything. At least, anything relating to the damage. It’s not even potential damage, Bruce sounded so sure about there being damage. That scares Maria the most, not knowing. As she showers, she tries to be realistic with herself. Part of her firmly wants to believe this isn’t career ending for her fiance, but she knows that it is. SHIELD’s not going to let her be a field agent with any sort of brain damage. And with how severe Bruce was hinting at, Phil wouldn’t take that chance. And the Avengers won’t let her run field missions, like Phil, they wouldn’t want to run the risk of actually losing her. Because that’s what Maria knows it boils down to. Concern for Natasha. It should warm her, she thinks, but it only leaves her feeling cold and empty.

“I’d give anything to make that bastard suffer.” She’s alone, in her shower, and she shouts it to the walls. She’s scared that Natasha won’t be Natasha when she wakes up. If she wakes up. But what scares her more is that Natasha will be her Natasha, but trapped in a body that won’t be able to keep up with the redhead. That’s the fear that kept Natasha awake, the fear that she voiced after every close call, after every trip to medical. The fear she only shared with Maria. And as soon as the anger comes, it leaves. Maria sags against the shower wall and leans her head against it. She repeats the mantra that she has kept going through her head, that she needs to be strong for Natasha. 

It takes her several minutes to force herself to finish the shower and climb out. She dries off and gets dressed and sags against the bathroom counter, wondering if she cares enough to do something with her hair. After only a few seconds of deliberation, she decides to put it up in a ponytail and leaves it at that. Then she covers the worst of the scratches in band-aids and stares at herself in the mirror.

Her car is still at HQ, and she doesn’t care enough to go get it. Nat’s car is in the garage, and she has driven that car often enough that it won’t be an issue. Though, when she goes to grab her laptop, she realizes that is also at HQ. If she’s going to sit by Natasha’s bedside, she might as well get work done. As much as she doesn’t want to go into SHIELD, she needs her things. All of her stuff is there, and she doesn’t want to rely on others to get her stuff. With a heavy sigh, she grabs Nat’s keys and heads down to the garage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so a bit longer than what I said, but it's here. I'm also part-way through the next chapter, so there's that. Also bleeding on Captain America is definitely illegal. Also there's probably going to be homophobic slurs and comments in the next chapter, just as a warning. I'll tag them as appropriate.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, people get what's coming to them. And Maria finally heads to see Natasha.

The ride to SHIELD seems longer than usual, but it’s probably because Maria’s dreading dealing with people. She uses the ride in to force herself into some sort of composure. If she can bring up and keep the Hard-ass Hill persona, maybe she can make it through this. It’s a simple in and out, she can do that much. Halfway there she realizes she hadn’t told anyone in the Tower where she was going. Oh well, they’ll figure it out. Besides, she’s a grown woman. She fears that if she spends too long at the Tower, the team will try and care for her. Which is the opposite of what she needs at the moment.

She parks next to her car, eying it. She’s not sure if she’ll take hers or Natasha’s to the hospital. She decides she’ll think about that after she’s gotten her things. She’s going to have to file for official leave, not that it will be leave. Coulson needs her, needs her help to run everything smoothly. But she’s in a high enough position that she can pull herself from field duty, she needs to be with Natasha. Another few moments to gather herself before she steps out of the car, keys shoved in her pocket. She’s not wearing her uniform, just jeans and a shirt. She thinks that maybe she’s prepared herself for the sympathy and pitying looks, but she realizes she was wrong.

_“You can let them see that you’re human, ‘Ria.” Natasha’s goading her, carefully pressing two fingers against Maria’s side in an attempt to get her to concede. “This isn’t Fury’s SHIELD, it’s Coulson’s. It’s a lot different, you don’t have to be an emotionless robot here.” She bristles at being called a robot._

The memory stops Maria in her tracks, just inside the door. She swears she can feel Natasha’s fingers against her side, and she steps to the side and closes her eyes. She’s not mourning, she needs to keep telling herself that. Natasha is strong and stubborn, she’ll come out on the other side. Maria just has to believe in her fiance. She pulls herself together again, something she feels like she’ll have to do fairly frequently. Plastering on a stern expression, she steps out of the shadows and starts for her office. The pitying, almost sympathetic expressions that greet her in the hallways are hard to deal with, and she’s doing the exact opposite of what Natasha would want her to, but this is how she’ll get through it. This is how she’ll get by. She ignores the whispers and glares down anyone about to make a comment.

Finally, she reaches her office and closes the door behind her. Maria leans against the door and hangs her head, this is harder than she expected. She’ll file the paperwork she needs to over the computer, or ask someone else to do it. As fast as she can, she packs up her laptop and what she’ll need. The break room still holds her leftovers, but she decides not to worry about those. Right now, her next move is to go see her fiance. She steels herself to open the door to her office and face her workplace once more, shouldering her bag more securely. And then she opens the door, relieved that the hallway is clear. She can almost see a clear shot out to the next hallway. Maria almost wishes she was desperate enough to run, to bolt to the door. A deep breath before she steps out into the hallway and closes the door behind her. She’ll have to pass the break room and the locker room on her way out, but she can only hope people leave her alone.

She walks quickly, avoiding looking into rooms. The need to see her fiance is growing overwhelming, with no word from Bruce or anyone, she’s concerned. More frightened, really. Hell, the need to hold Natasha to herself, to touch and feel and know her fiance is alive. She needs that more than air, she thinks.

“I told you that bitch had it coming. I told you, that dyke was gonna learn her lesson. I hope that faggot Barton is next.” The words drifting into the hallway from the locker room cause her to pause just outside.

“O’Riley, shut your mouth. She’s one of us, and she didn’t deserve that. And you need to stop being such a homophobic jack-ass, seriously. That’s going to get you canned. You do realize that both the people who fucking run SHIELD are gay, right? One day, your comments are going to bite you in the ass. I hope I’m there to see it.” Maria recognizes the second voice as Agent Jameson. His comments make her smile, he’s a good agent with a good head on his shoulders. But she can’t ignore O’Riley’s comments. Laying her bag against the wall as quietly as possible, she goes to stand in the doorway.

“You know, Jameson has a point. You’d think between Romanoff and Barton harassing you, you’d have learned your lesson. Well, unfortunately for you, I’m not in the mood to be forgiving. Or kind. Normally, well, we’d just fire you and send you on your way. But I’ve got a lot of pent up rage and anger, and you’ve started something you can’t hope to finish.” Jameson looks like he’s about to shit a brick, Maria thinks. And O’Riley, the infinite dumb-ass, looks at her defiantly.

“Bitch, what are you going to do? I’m sick of sucking up to your dyke ass. Yeah, Romanoff got what was coming to her. And you’ll get your own soon enough. Go ahead, fire me. It’s not gonna bring Romanoff back.” His sneer makes Maria want to wipe it off of his face, forcefully. And that’s exactly what she’s going to do. She smirks at him and cracks her knuckles. He might outweigh her, but Maria’s a scrapper.

“Dude, shut the fuck up. She was a SEAL, you moron.” Jamson’s hiss at O’Riley brings a wider smirk to her face.

“Jameson, while I appreciate your help, I believe it’s time to take out the trash.” She doesn’t even care what Coulson will think of this. Maybe this will help her calm down.

“Bring it on, bitch.” O’Riley’s smirk and lunge at her seal the deal. She’s going to kick his ass. Side-stepping his lunge, she spins, slamming a boot tip into his shin and causing him to stumble into the wall. The resulting snarl is cathartic. He turns, he’s SHIELD, so he can fight. But not on her level. And definitely not on Natasha’s level. This time he’s careful, swinging in close in an attempt to connect with her head. But she’s faster, she’ll always be faster, and slides out of the way, delivering one hell of a punch to his gut. It causes him to stagger back, giving her enough time to slam her palm into his face. The crunch of cartilage beneath her hand is rewarding. As is the spurt of blood, and she takes a step back, surveying the damage.

“Jameson, take O’Riley to medical. And then help him clean out his locker.” Coulson’s voice rings through the room, and Agent Jameson wastes no time in ushering O’Riley out the door. Maria turns to Coulson, her face defiant.

“Do you feel better now?” He asks her, and it wasn’t the words she was expecting. A slow nod, she does feel slightly better. “Good. He was due to be fired, anyway. But, after those comments, I think we’ll make doubly sure he won’t be hired to any respectable organization.” Maria snorts at that, realizing Coulson had to have been in earshot of the entire exchange.

“I am guessing this is pretty obvious, but I just want to formally point out I’m pulling myself from field duty and going on partial leave. You’ll know where to find me and how to contact me, but Natasha needs to be my priority now, not SHIELD.” At least she can tell that to Coulson’s face now, instead of sending him an email. She watches him nod and a wave of relief passes through her, she was hoping Coulson would understand, but she wasn’t sure. A nod at her boss, and friend, before she heads back out of the room.

“Maria.” He rarely uses her first name, as she rarely uses his. So this instance causes her to pause and turn to him. “I don’t want to even see you logged in to your account until we know more, until things have settled.” He’s giving her an out, and a reason to reroute her priorities. She nods at him again, grateful for what it is. Though, she’s concerned about what she’ll do with her time. She doesn’t know how much she’ll have, but SHIELD’s her life. A hesitant smile crosses her face and she rounds the corner where her bag sits. She’s honestly not sure what to expect in the coming days. How much of it will be managing and working with doctors, though, she knows Bruce will handle the majority of that. Still, she also knows that it’s her part as Natasha’s significant other to be there and do what she can. More than her part, it’s something she has to do. Because she can’t see herself doing anything less. Not when the woman she loves more than life itself needs her. Her eyes close for just a moment while she steels herself to leave the building. Bag shouldered, she heads out to her car. She has her car keys now, but she suddenly doesn’t want to drive her car. She took Natasha’s to SHIELD, she decides she’ll leave with Nat’s car. Maria can always come back for her car.

It’s with that mindset that she heads out into the parking lot, ignoring the looks and glances. She wasn’t in the fight with O’Riley long enough to end up with any bruises herself, but she feels worn and tired from it all. Without much care she tosses her bag into the passenger seat of the car and slides in. Maria lets her body go on auto-pilot for the drive. She knows the way to the hospital pretty damn well, and her mind is already shutting down.

Before she knows it, she’s pulling into the hospital parking deck. It seems her brain had shut down for the entire drive, which normally would cause her to worry. But at the moment, she’s just glad for the mental break. Because now she’s back to worry and fear, her stomach lodged in her throat. It’s about noon, and she’s suddenly really worried that Bruce hasn’t updated her. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she grimaces. The damn thing is dead, it’s no wonder. She flips open the middle console of Natasha’s car and digs around for a moment. Past the gun and ammo and various paraphernalia she finally finds what she’s looking for. Her fiance has a weird habit of hoarding portable USB batteries, Maria’s found them in the oddest places. And they’re always weird shapes, this one seems to be in the shape of an ice cream cone. She rolls her eyes, it’s so typically Natasha, and grabs the cord to go with it. Neon pink, to match the ugly shade of ice cream. This time, Maria actually snorts. The battery should still have enough juice to charge her phone. So she plugs both of them in, shoves the electronics in her pocket, and exits the car. If there are updates on her phone, she’ll see them soon enough. In the meantime, she’s actually at the hospital, so she can find out the state of things in person.

So she strolls into the hospital and towards where Natasha had been last night. She hopes her fiance was moved to a room, but she’ll check where everything was happening last night. About halfway through reception her phone finally decides to buzz to life. She pauses long enough to pull her phone out of her pocket, leaving the ridiculous charger in her pocket. There are several texts waiting for her, among a slew of other things. A few voicemails, but she checks the texts first. One from Pepper, but she ignores that one for now. There are several from Bruce, so she opens the first one. Just a general update, telling her not much has changed. The text is from early that morning. That relieves Maria. The second one is the text she really wanted, it gives her Natasha’s new room number, and an addition of Bruce letting her know that she’s cleared to see Natasha anytime she wants. Perks of being officially together, she guesses. The third is another update, he tells her that the swelling has finally started to go down. He adds that it’s a positive sign, but Maria can read into what he’s not telling her. That they’re not out of the woods yet. But she now has a room number, so she heads in that direction. Seeing Natasha will go a long way into calming her down.

Natasha’s room is an area of the hospital Maria’s not used to frequenting, she’s not even sure what wing it’s in. She just knows Natasha is there, and that’s what matters. Though, Maria can probably guess what wing it is, she really doesn’t want to think about the implications of it. So she just heads for the room in question, ignoring the looks of anyone she passes. Natasha is high profile enough that she knows the area is probably highly secured, and she doesn’t doubt that Stark would have had a hand in ensuring the security is top notch. But obviously these people have been briefed on who Maria is, because she walks into the room with no problem. Still, she’s looking at her feet, at the floor, anywhere but in front of her, because she knows she’ll never be ready to see what she knows is in front of her.

“Hey, Maria.” She snaps her head up at that, not expecting Steve to be in the room. Hell, she wasn’t expecting anyone. But the blond is just smiling at her, except it’s not his usual smile. Not the _apple pie_ smile, as Tasha frequently calls it. Maria heaves in a breath and nods, returning with a hesitant smile. Now that her gaze is up, she looks past Steve, to the bed where Natasha is laying.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing is okay and Maria is mad.

Even knowing she wasn’t ready, even knowing what would meet her gaze, the sight still knocks the breath out of her. She wishes she dared grab something for support, it feels like her knees want to buckle, it feels like she’s going to hit the floor at that very moment. It feels like her entire world is crashing down, again. Again and again, it hits her. She was able to delude herself, she guesses, but the full scene before her is jarring and it sets her on edge. Maria Hill finds herself rooted to the spot, her feet stuck to the ground and the world rocking beneath her. But her attention is so zeroed in, her gaze can’t, it won’t, she can’t pull her eyes away from her fiance. 

She doesn’t even try to count the number of tubes and wires, she’s already overwhelmed. Maria almost wonders if there are more tubes than her brief visit before. There are still things, tubes and wires, trailing from the side of Natasha’s skull, despite the thick bandages. The hair she knows isn’t under there. Maria tries to swallow her fear, tries to move, to do anything. But she’s still rooted, stuck there, staring at Natasha in horror. She really had hoped that this would be easier, but it isn’t. The cacophony of noises in the room, of machines and everything, it drowns out any thoughts she tries to force through the horror. 

“Maria!” Her name being said forcefully draws her back to the moment, and her vision clears. She hadn’t notice it black out, but when she looks up, she sees Steve standing in front of her. His hand is on her shoulder, and she just now feels it. A deep breath to steady herself, and she blinks until she’s able to see Steve clearly. “I know it’s terrifying, but she needs us here. She needs you here.” Maria nods slowly, shifting from foot to foot. He nods at her, and she wonders just how bad she looked if Steve looks this concerned.

“I’m fine.” She lies, and the expression that flits over Steve’s face is of disbelief, before he masks it with a smile. She’s grateful he’s letting her have this lie. A deep breath through her nose before she leans to the side to see past Steve. Maria needs another look at Natasha, one with her mind clear. One where she can really asses the situation.

“Bruce said the swelling is starting to go down, he’s been in and out. He wanted to talk to you when you got here, so I’m going to go get him. You should sit down.” Steve’s voice is gentle, he’s always so kind. He doesn’t deserve the anger that boiled up within her, the pointless anger that serves no purpose. She buries it deep, this isn’t his fault. None of it is, he is just trying to help. She has already taken care of the man who did this. So her only response is a nod, before she shuffles over to the chair Steve has vacated. 

With a clear head, she is better able to asses Natasha. Yes, there are still tubes and wires trailing from her skull, which, while were frightening, were definitely not the worst thing. The lack of hair is unsettling, only because it is most of Natasha’s head, and only the tiniest bit is left. And the thick bandages aren’t that terrifying. The ventilator tube is routine enough, it isn’t her first encounter with it, nor is it Natasha’s, but it still holds a modicum of terror to it. The rest of the wires and tubes are routine enough, IVs and monitoring equipment. Well, except for the thick wire trailing from Natasha’s collarbone. That is just unsettling, and Maria isn’t even sure what it is for. But her gaze keeps going back to Natasha’s head. There is a thick wire, and some tubing, and not all of it is located on the side of her head. Then the tube leading into Natasha’s nose, while something Maria is familiar with, didn’t make it any less harrowing. The whole scene is unsettling, and she has to lower herself down slowly. There isn’t much covering her fiance, and Maria has the urge to go collect blankets. She knows there is probably a good reason for it, but Natasha ran cold, and Maria’s first instinct is to warm her up. There is the normal, and thin, hospital gown. As well as a thin sheet covering her, and Maria knows none of it is enough to keep Natasha warm were she conscious, or even just normally unconscious. Without putting much thought into the gesture, she leans forward and picks up Natasha’s hand. She is mindful of the IV taped to the back of her hand, but that doesn’t stop her from bringing her fiance’s hand to her mouth, pressing a kiss to Natasha’s knuckles. An echo of when she was first let in to see her fiance. After the kiss, she settles Natasha’s hand in both of hers and attempts to rub warmth into it. The redhead’s hand is far too cool for Maria’s liking. 

“Maria.” Her attention is directed away from her prone fiance, and towards Bruce Banner. He’s standing in the doorway, looking more than a bit afraid to step into the room. She sighs and shakes her head.

“I’m not going to blame you for this, Bruce. I took care of the person to blame.” She finds herself saying, her voice soft and still a good portion of her attention on Natasha. It’s like she expects her fiance to wake up and everything to go back to normal. Logically she knows that’s not the case. She sees him nod and enter the room proper.

“There wasn’t a lot of time to really give you proper information, before. Now there is, and I’m afraid you’re going to like what I say a lot less than you did before.” He still sounds apprehensive, and she doesn’t exactly know how to put him at ease. She sighs again, placing Natasha’s hand back on the bed and shifting her entire body to face Bruce. “Really, the only good news I have for you is that there is improvement, however minor it is. She’s still very much in critical condition, and nowhere near in the clear. But the swelling has gone down, if only slightly.” He’s wringing his hands, a nervous habit she remembers Natasha pointing out at one point. Maria nods, slowly. “We’re watching and monitoring at this point. There really hasn’t been any indication of her healing picking things up, and we don’t have any history for an injury this bad. Not in her records, not in Steve’s, and Bucky’s records are spotty, at best. And each of the Serums are different, so we wouldn’t even have reliable data.” She nods again, it’s nothing she wants to hear, but everything she needs to know.

“It really boils down to waiting, and doing whatever we can to minimize the damage. There are a few things we’re watching, but where it stands right now … I’ll be honest, if her healing doesn’t start to kick in, or something changes drastically, things already look pretty grim. If the Serum doesn’t do something, we’re not going to have anything to recover. We’re not even sure the Serum will do anything. This could be too much for it.” He’s still wringing his hands, and frankly it’s starting to annoy Maria. 

“Spare me the medical bullshit and speculation, Bruce. What are we looking at?” She finally says, getting sick of him skirting around the topic. Maria needs the information, not Bruce Banner fearfully babbling at her until he either hulks out or passes out.

“I—uh. Brain damage. Significant. If the Serum does any healing, and if it doesn’t—if the Serum is overwhelmed, or doesn’t do anything—if she stays as she is right now, there’s … nothing. There’s too much damage right now, and not a lot of activity. We’re waiting, hoping. Doing what we can to try and give the Serum a push, to try and minimize damage and give her more of a chance. If the Serum doesn’t kick in, she won’t survive.” Maria swallows, these are words she definitely doesn’t want to hear.

“So what you’re telling me is that you’re relying on a eighty-year old genetic experiment. You’re relying on something both you and I know is faulty, on a Serum that is no where near the level of Steve’s. You’re basically saying she doesn’t have a chance, because that goddamn Serum is more of a fucking curse than a blessing, and we both know that. We all know that. You’re sentencing her to god knows what by relying on it.” She’s angry, and she feels justified in it. The Serum that Natasha has, the Soviet attempt at what made Captain America, it’s never been something they could rely on. Natasha hated it more than she was thankful for it, and she’d be downright pissed that this is what it was boiling down to. Maria doesn’t even care that Bruce recoils at her words. She’s speaking the truth. 

“Maria, the Serum is her only chance. We have no other choice but to rely on it. There’s too much damage, her brain is too damaged. Without the Serum, she’s dead. She’s already close enough. The Serum doesn’t work and she’s gone, we’re hoping on her very last chance. People don’t survive this kind of injury, not how the bullet entered. We do what we can, repair what we’re able, and we hope. That’s all there is to it.” He’s backing up towards the door, and she can’t bring herself to care. She’s angry, angry at Bruce, at the man who shot Natasha, at the world. She’s not ready, will never be ready, to lose Natasha. 

“Fine.” She finds herself grudgingly agreeing, because if that’s it, if that’s what she’s facing. What Natasha is facing, well, she needs to accept it. She tries not to entertain the idea of Natasha not pulling through, though she knows relying on the Soviet Serum is a faulty plan, at best. It’s now a matter of it if the Serum decides to work. Watching Bruce edging out of the room causes her to clench her jaw in anger. He seems to be hovering between staying and fleeing. “What else?” She asked before he has a chance to make that decision.

“There are things we’re monitoring, potential problems. There’s still the risk we—they might have to operate again. But—” He trails off as she narrows her eyes at him. “Until then, we can give you mostly unrestricted visiting time. Except during testing, but I’m sure you understand that. I’ll keep you updated.” She nods, and turns back towards Natasha. Maria is holding back her anger, pushing it down, shoving it away. She’ll let it out when she’s alone, but for the moment, her concern and love for Natasha washes that emotion away. Processing can happen later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for your comments, I do read every single one. They warm my cold, dead, soul-sucking heart. It's just hard for me to respond sometimes so I don't, but I do read them. They keep me going. There's going to be an attempt to finish this fanfic before mid-december, as I want to enter it in a contest. Here's hoping I can manage it! Thank you all so much!


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just more feels. Maria talks to Nat.

Now that she’s alone with her fiance once more, she heaves a tired sigh and drops her face into her free hand. The other hand is still wrapped around Natasha’s, holding on like some kind of life-line. She’s so drained, so exhausted. She doesn’t know what to do, or say, or even think, that she hasn’t already in the past two days. Maria is sick of repeating herself, repeating her thoughts. Frankly, she’s sick of everything. And the fear the bubbles just beneath the surface, the cold, endless pit of fear that threatens to overwhelm her. 

She can’t see her life without Natasha, even though she had convinced herself long ago that she could accept the eventuality. It was a lie, a way to delude herself into thinking they’d always be okay. This is the worst Natasha has been injured, and it’s the worst kind. She’s not sure she’ll ever have Natasha back, or that she’ll ever have her Natasha back. There’s still so much that could go wrong, the risk of losing the woman who proposed to her only a few days ago is so real, so raw, that it feels like it’s choking Maria. She feels like she’s drowning. 

“Tasha—” She hates how her voice breaks, how despondent and fearful she sounds. “Please come back to me. I don’t care how, I don’t care why, but I cannot do this without you. I can’t lose you, not now, not ever. It doesn’t matter how, it doesn’t matter in what shape you come back, just come back. Please.” She knows Natasha can’t hear her, she knows that nothing she says, or even does, will effect the outcome. Maria Hill is completely helpless, and it’s not the first time she’s felt this level of helplessness, but it’s a rare occurrence. Usually, there is something. Here, she’s just useless. The only thing she can do is sit and wait, hope and beg whatever deity will listen. Natasha is dying, and she can’t save the woman she loves more than life. She’d cry, if she had any tears left in her. But she can’t, she’s too worn out, so she just sits there, face buried in one hand.

She’s not sure how long she sits there like that, her hand wrapped around Natasha’s limp one. The sounds of the machines start to drown out any thoughts, and she starts to focus on just holding Natasha’s hand. It’s at least long enough for her neck to cramp up, and she actually has to raise her head and crack her neck. Nothing has changed around her, her fiance is still prone, still lifeless and still. She knows it’s useless to hope, useless to expect something to change in the short time she’s been sitting in the chair next to Natasha’s bed. So she stares at Natasha’s chest, trying to find comfort in the fact that it still rises and falls with breath. She tries to force the voice in her mind away, the one that starts up a litany of how Tasha’s not breathing on her own, the voice that tries to bring Maria’s doubts to the surface. Maria forcibly pushes that voice away and focus on the fact that her fiance is here, that her fiance is still alive. That’s all she needs to focus on.

“Nat.” She breathes softly, taking her free hand and placing it against Natasha’s cheek. Her skin is still so cold, it bothers Maria. She wants to take Natasha and hold her, warm her up. Maria finds herself just gently stroking Natasha’s cheek, running her calloused fingers against her fiance’s smooth skin. “You’ll be okay, right? You’re too strong, too stubborn, to give up. You’ll make it through this. We both will.” Maria blinks away the tears that are starting to form. She supposes she was wrong when she thought she had no more tears to cry, but she’s not about to break down here, where other people can see her. Not yet, anyway.

The hand wrapped around Natasha’s shifts slightly, so that Maria can twine her fingers between Natasha’s limp ones. The lack of reaction, while expected, is no less disappointing. Even in sleep, Natasha reacted to that. No reaction, nothing, and it tears at Maria’s heart. She closes her eyes, nothing about this entire situation is acceptable. Maria feels like she has been torn to shreds and scattered across the floor. Nothing about Natasha’s current state, or the room is characteristic of her fiance, feels right. She feels like the room is leeching everything from Natasha that makes her fiance who she is. The smells of the room; the clinical and sharp scent of the hospital, the stillness, the sounds. She feels like she has already lost Natasha.

“I figured you wanted to surprise everyone with the news of our engagement, but you had to go and get shot. Steve noticed the ring, I’m sure everyone knows now. I guess it’s like SHIELD, it wasn’t something we were going to be able to hide for long.” Talking is good, right? Talking to her fiance might help, and she feels like she vaguely remembers something about talking to people in comas. She hopes she’s remembering that right. “I don’t have restraint when it comes to you, I guess. I killed the asshole who did this, and I don’t feel an ounce of regret. He was scum, and he did this. Phil’s not even mad, or, he doesn’t seem to be. He just seems scared, like the rest of us. We’re all terrified, Tash. You keep everyone connected, you know that? You keep that dysfunctional team sane, and I don’t know what they’ll do without you. I don’t know what I’ll do without you.” Her fingers still touch the side of Natasha’s face, but there’s no change in anything when Maria opens her eyes.

“O’Reilly got fired. Coulson had about enough of his comments, he was really ranting about you getting shot. I might’ve broken his nose. Actually, I did. I felt his nose give under my fist. Bastard deserved that. Our apartment is empty without you, you know. You may be small, but damn do you take up space with your presence. I’ve seen you command Captain America, and he’s easily a foot taller.” The world is more dull without Natasha, like Maria’s world has lost color. 

“I can’t do this without you, Nat. And even if I could, I wouldn’t want to. All I ask is that you pull through this.” Her voice is starting to go hoarse with emotion, and Maria can’t deal with the broken sound of her own voice. She heaves in a deep sigh, she feels so tired. She’s just so tired and worn and sick of feeling like she’s falling apart.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria finally loosens up, at least a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took me forever. I really am. And I can't promise to update on any schedule. I'm working on Lethal Dose and another fic, trying to get a few chapters ahead of everything and get on a posting schedule for this and Lethal Dose, but I cannot promise anything. I've been struggling with health issues, which make me constantly exhausted and in pain a lot. It's hard for me to focus to a point where I feel satisfied with my writing, and I feel like nothing I do is up to par. This was written before the health issues started, but I'm hoping I can still churn out quality work. Again, I'm sorry this took forever. But I will tell you this with complete certainty, I will never abandon this fic. Ever. It just may take a while.

Maria startles awake, flinging off the hand on her shoulder and bolting upright, yanking on the hand and jerking whoever touched her down to her level.

“Holy shit! Stop! Hill, it’s me, stop.” Stark’s screech of pain and rushed words for Maria to let go of the hand she’s crushing bring her back to herself. She forces her breathing into something more normal than the panicked rush. Slowly, she blinks her eyes and turns her head to face Stark. Even more slowly, she straightens her back, feeling her joints pop as she straightens. The side of her face is numb, and overly warm, and it belatedly occurs to her that she must have fallen asleep with her head resting on the bed. She pulls her gaze away from Stark nursing his hand, to find that she hadn’t been resting her head on the bed, but on Natasha’s hip. The sheet covering her fiance in that spot is rumpled, and Maria closes her eyes, breathing through her nose.

“Hey, you okay?” She ignores Stark’s words, she’s a bit busy torn between berating herself for falling asleep on her injured fiance, and reveling in the proximity and restful sleep she had. 

“Yeah.” She croaks, pulling away from Natasha and shaking her head to clear it. 

“You don’t look it, but fine. Bruce says they need to take Tasha back from some tests, and told me to get you sleep and eat something. They’ll be a bit, but you need rest. You look like shit.” Maria snorts at his comments.

“Thanks for that.” She says, clearing her throat in an attempt to get her voice to sound like normal. Stark is an ass, but most of his entire life is a series of word vomit. “I’m fine.” She found herself responding, probably a little defensively.

“You don’t have a choice. Steve’s standing by in case we need to manhandle you.” Maria snorts again, eying Stark even as he stands a bit away from her. He’s probably afraid, and it shouldn’t amuse her. But it does.

“Fine.” Her words are a huff, mostly annoyance at the situation. She stands up and cracks her back, smirking at Tony as he backs away from her. It can’t possibly hurt to sleep and eat, Bruce will call her if something comes up. She can probably crash in her car or something. Maria doesn’t want to leave Natasha’s side, she’s fearful of what might happen in her absence. The need to be close to her fiance is this overwhelming urge and it’s almost painful to bear. But, she also doesn’t want to be bodily dragged out of the room by Steve. A sigh before she straightens the sheet covering Natasha. “But I’m coming back to this room as soon as I’m allowed.” The only reason she’s honestly agreeing to leaving is because, despite her need to be close to Nat, she also doesn’t want to disrupt the care her fiance needs. She doesn’t need to be told twice, and with her head held high she heads out of the room, breezing past Steve. She gets as far as the end of the corridor before she’s stopped by Barton.

“Food, Hill.” He tells her, and it’s like the entire team is communicating. She leans to the side to see if she can catch a earbud in Barton’s ear, until it dawns on her that looking for an earpiece on Barton is useless. His hearing aids are built in with the ability to work on SHIELD’s frequencies. Maria rolls her eyes and stands there, her body language daring him to try and actually stop her.

“Normally, I’d be intimated as fuck. But Steve gave me a mission, and frankly, you look like hell. We’re going out to eat, I’ve got orders to get you out of the hospital for at least two hours.” She arches an eyebrow at him, her body language morphing into defiance. “You don’t have a choice, Maria. You can’t do anything here for her, and neither can I. Let’s go get something to eat, and try and relax a bit, yeah? I know that you feel useless, and I do too.” His voice drops low, in any other situation she’d have a hard time hearing him, but his words ring true, and she nods, slowly.

“I hate it when you’re right, Barton.” She says, her voice sour. Maria’s not actually upset at him, but she’s upset at the truth his words hold. And his words are a reminder that she’s not the only one who loves Natasha. That hits her hard, because she suddenly realizes that they’re all hurting. No one in their group is alright, they’re all just holding it together. Steve’s smile, Bruce’s hesitancy, Tony’s sudden boldness and Barton’s honesty. All ways of dealing with what has happened. It’s jarring to realize this, and she finds herself sighing and hanging her head. “Yeah, let’s get something to eat.” Barton looks at her a little funny but nods, and starts walking down the hall. Maria falls in pace with him, matching his gait easily.

“I’d ask if you’re okay, but I have the feeling out of all of us, you’re the least okay. There’s a little Chinese place down the road, we can go there. It’s some kind of buffet, Nat’d call it shady as fuck, but I bet the food is amazing. I’ve got a good eye for these places.” His tone is conversational, like his words don’t hit Maria like a bus. She tries to force a smile for him before she just gives up, he’s practically family. Like a brother to Natasha, she’s said that more than once. Maria always feels so disconnected from everyone, Natasha was—is her connection to everyone else. She’s never thought of the Avengers as her team, her people are Coulson and Nick. Not the dysfunctional team of super heroes that Nat’s attached to. And her relationship with Barton, prior to the Battle of New York, consisted of forcing punishment on the man for misconduct. She can only assume that sours a relationship, but here he is, dragging her to a meal and acting like they’re friends. Maybe they are, and Maria’s just never seen it.

“You know, you don’t have to put up a front around us. We know you’re hurting, we’re all hurting. I mean, you more than any of us, but we’re not immune to it. We’re all scared. But, I mean, if putting up a front helps you, then by all means, go for it. I’m just saying. You’re in good company. We all love Nat, in our own ways. She’s special.” Maria snorts at his last comment, but she lets the mask down. Her shoulders sag, and she lets her face rest where her emotions sit.

“She’s certainly special.” Maria finds herself saying, agreeing with his statement. Barton chuckles, and she watches as his whole attitude changes. It makes her realize that he’s been putting up a front too, they all have. She sighs, unsure how to proceed with the situation. Acting on pure impulse, she reaches out and clasps Barton’s should, stopping both of them. “I know I’m not the only one who loves her, and I’m sorry I’ve been so selfish. She doesn’t belong to me, or anyone, for that matter. She’d kick my ass if she caught me like this, being all insular and self-focused.” Those are the words that come out of her mouth before she has a chance to think them over. The look on Barton’s face, the flash of open fear before he covers it up with a sad smile. She has to laugh at the fear, though. The blond nervously chuckles after her laugh, and she shakes her head before she speaks again. “I’m not going to eat you, Barton. I’m just … doing what Nat would want. And that’s to be less of a hard-ass. Believe it or not, I can be nice.” Barton laughs at that. The tension between them just eases away, like it hadn’t been there at all.

“Yeah. You’re right, she wouldn’t want you closing yourself off to everyone. We all need to be there for each other, and you need to let us be there for you.” Maria nods, pulling her hand back. It was an awkward moment, to be sure, but she feels better for having said those words. And Barton seems to have loosened up. “Right, food. That’s something we need to do.”


	22. Chapter 22

“Yeah.” She doesn’t sound too convinced. Maria has no appetite, hasn’t since Natasha went down. And her sleep has been even worse, and anything but restful. Save for the few hours she got passed out against her fiance. It just doesn’t feel right, to be doing the things Natasha can’t at the moment; like she’s lessening the severity of what has happened by going on with living. Well, she knows that’s silly. But that doesn’t change the fact that she has not been hungry for two days. Maria is aware that food and sleep are needed to keep going, and she needs to keep going to be there for Natasha. She takes no pleasure in it, there’s no joy in anything at the moment, and she hopes that it won’t be a permanent thing. 

“Look, we’ll just get food. We’ll eat, and then come back here. Steve’s rules be damned, I know I don’t want to be too far from here in case of … well, in case of anything. And I can’t imagine you want to be too far away yourself.” She has always been impressed with the lack of eloquence Clint Barton has. It has to be an art form, even Natasha was amused by it. Now, it soothes her. It’s something familiar, something she’s used to. 

“Okay.” She finds herself responding, everything is dulled and her enthusiasm for anything is nonexistant. Still, she knows that her body has needs that she cannot ignore, even if she can go longer without than the average person. Maria needs to be there for Natasha, and she can’t allow herself to be selfish. But her mind is a mess, and it will continue to be that way unless she gets herself under control. By far, this is one of the worst situations she’s ever experienced, but she’s had her fair share of horrible that she’s developed enough coping mechanisms to deal with them. Not all of her techniques are healthy, but they get her through. She’s grateful that she has been able to develop ways of coping that allow her to function on a normal level, even if the circumstances that caused them were unfortunate. Maria Hill can carry on if she has to, she’s done it before, she can do it again. So she starts following Barton the moment he starts walking, keeping her eyes on him. She can use him as a lead, and focus on herself as they walk. Barton would not lead her into danger, she does trust the man. The situation is ideal for what she begins to do. Clearing her head of everything but what she needs to follow Barton, she lets calm and emptiness wash over her. It’s hard to do it completely, but she can think in a detached manner. Unrealistically part of her wants to continue to be upset, though she has stopped listening to that part a long time ago. She’s doing exactly what Natasha would have wanted, letting people in. Though, she can almost hear Nat lecturing her on how long it took Maria to start letting others in. Well, the detached way of thinking is soothing and it lulls her into a pattern of following Barton and listening to unimportant thoughts.

“We’re here.” Barton’s voice snaps her back to attention, and the tone of his voice causes her to pause. “You good?” Maria nods, trying to ignore the peculiar look he is giving her. Inside, it smells exactly like she had expected. A cheap Chinese buffet, but it is food, and she has certainly eaten worse if it turns out to be bad. She lets Barton do the talking, sliding into the opposite side of the booth they have been given.  
“She does that too, you know. I’m not unfamiliar with the whole shut down thing. Sometimes I can’t tell if Nat’s learned something from you, or you’ve learned it from her. I guess it doesn’t matter, what matters is that I clued in soon enough to handle it.” Maria frowns, her brow creasing as she digests that information. Had Natasha learned that from her? Or had she known to do it on her own. It doesn’t matter much, and if Barton knows how to handle it, that makes things a lot easier.

“I wasn’t clocking out on you, I just needed to clear my head.” She watches Barton wave a hand and shake his head.

“I know, there’s nothing wrong with that. Do whatever you need to, as long as it’s not hurting you or anyone else. I tell Nat the same thing. We’ve all got our coping methods, and they work. We’re functioning adults, so no one can say anything about it. Just tell me what you need.” Maria has to take a moment to comprehend what Barton is saying. She’s not used to that acceptance, but then again, this is the man who recruited Natasha instead of killing her. If she was being honest with herself, Barton’s actions shouldn’t surprise her. She’s read his records, it’s a testament to his strength that he is the way he is now. And Natasha trusts him, implicitly. Maria is starting to see why. She’s starting to see past the goofy and dumb shell. Maria has always known that Barton was a lot smarter than he let people believe, but she certainly didn’t expect him to be be this sensitive. 

“Right.” It is the only response she has, nothing else comes to mind. It’s like her brain can’t process this version of Barton, she’s spent years working with him and she can’t seem to reconcile this Barton with the one she’s constantly punishing for stupid antics. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, Natasha had always told her there was more to Clint Barton, but Maria hadn’t expected this. It’s a bit too much on top of everything else, and she hangs her head in an attempt to get herself together. When she’s ready, her eyes open and she lifts her head. The expression on Barton’s face is not what she expected, and his hand is half extended, like he halted himself from comforting her.

“Sorry. I’m having trouble processing at the moment.” Barton laughs at that, a warm sound. The laugh he usually saved for Natasha, she has heard it before but only near her fiance.  
“Different person, huh? No, I get it. We all have our masks, you know all of Natasha’s, but she’s not the only one. She can’t be here, but I can. And I’ve pulled her out of enough shit that I think I can be of help here. She’d skin me alive if I left you to your own devices. I’m just sorry it took me this long to get my head out of my ass.” He’s right, though. It’s like she’s dealing with a completely different person. She feels like only a select few get to see this side of Barton, and her entire perspective of the man changes in that very instant. 

“Yeah.” She breathes, offering Barton the smallest of smiles. Words are failing her at the moment, and her world has shifted so much in the past few days that she feels like she’s never going to catch up. Still, she reaches out and lay a hand atop Barton’s, where it sits in the middle of their table. He’s right, Natasha would want them to support each other. She might be Natasha’s fiance, but Barton is Natasha’s best friend. Maria sincerely doubts anything could get between the two of them, their bond is so tight. 

“So, food?” Maria nods at his words, and follows him as he slides out of the booth. She doesn’t really pay attention to what she’s loading her plate with, it’s food, and she doubts she’ll taste it anyway. They’re both silent until they’ve reached the privacy of their booth, and Maria watches Barton for her cues on what to do. 

“Look, I’m really bad at words. So if you need something, it’s probably best to be pretty blunt about it. I’m here for you. The two of us, we’re the closest to her by far. Makes sense for us to stick together, yeah?” She nods. Maria’s still trying to wrap her head around this side of Barton, but it’s starting to sink in. She only starts to eat after he does, and they eat in silence. There’s not much more to say between them at the moment. Besides, Barton goes back for several plate fulls. She’s content with her one plate, even when he arches his eyebrow at her. 

“You know, she had been planning it for months.” They’re sitting there with empty plates and glasses strewn on the table, and at first Barton’s voice startles her. And then she takes in his words.  
“I had figured. She doesn’t usually do things impulsively, and there had to have been some serious planning into that. Getting that cake like she did takes a reservation.” She’s not sure why it doesn’t hurt her to talk about it with Barton, but she finds the words easy to come, and without that pang of guilt and hurt that usually comes with thinking about the other night.

“No, I mean really planning it. You should have seen some of her proposal ideas. You’re lucky she came to me about them. She was going a little crazy and getting too elaborate. Pretty sure the lion one was the weirdest. I finally talked her down to something more average, she wanted it to be spectacular. Well, she wanted it to be perfect, but she was getting out of hand. I mean, flashy is great and all, but you two? You’re quiet, she needed to do something that fit both of you. Even after my .. uh, well. My proposal was a train wreck, and we’re quite happy. I guess that gave her confidence.” Maria has to smile at that, she can almost see Natasha grow progressively more neurotic over proposing. And she wants to hear the lion story eventually. Still, the words make her feel better. Focusing on Natasha being a dork is helping, and she enjoys the break it’s giving her.  


“She did it by the book, but it was perfect. I wouldn’t have had it any other way, honestly.” She looks down at the ring, twisting it on her finger. “We’ve been together for quite a while, but this came out of left field. I didn’t catch any signs or clues that she was up to something until we picked up the cake. I understood why she had wanted to wait, I never faulted her for that. She had very valid reasons, and five years is nothing compared to the eighty-odd years she’s been alive. I don’t commit to someone or something lightly, but I’ve been committed to her for years. Rings and a piece of paper aren’t going to change anything between us, it’ll just be more official.” Her voice shakes a little, but she ignores it. For the first time, she really focuses on the ring. Maria blinks, looking harder at the ring. She had completely missed the intricate carvings on the gold, and the way the black star sapphire sits just so. The ring is perfect, just like her fiance.  


“Yeah. She always felt bad that she kept pushing it off, it’s just hard for her to commit like that. You know her just as well as I do, sometimes her reasons only make sense to her. But I guess that’s one of the reasons we love her.” Maria chuckles at that, lifting her head to watch Barton. A soft smile and a nod to his words as she leans back in the booth. “Think we’ve killed enough time that we won’t get yelled at?” She nods. And makes a mental note to include Barton in the mess her life has become. He’s right, they’re the closest people to Natasha, and banding together will only help.

**Author's Note:**

> This is not canon compliant with AoS season 2. I started writing it before season 2 started so most of the workings of the new SHIELD is simply headcanon and/or speculation.


End file.
